


Lass mich nie mehr los

by followthecreeper (insibbegerest)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Snow White Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insibbegerest/pseuds/followthecreeper
Summary: Something was wrong, Paul could tell. When you live somewhere as long as he has lived in the forest, you can feel it in your bones when something bad happens. He could hear it in the animals' howling, in the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the trees. The sounds of the nature usually soothed him, but now there was something sinister about them, as if the forest was calling to him for help. Hastily, he dressed up and left his house, knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anyway until he found out what was going on.After wandering around for some time, he saw a body lying in the grass. He cursed quietly, hoping it wasn't too late. He rushed towards the body and knelt down next to it, looking for any signs of life. He sighed with relief. There was pulse, although weak. The stranger lived, but he probably didn't have much time left. Paul took off his coat and carefully wrapped the man up, determined to take him back to his cabin and make sure he survives.





	1. Chapter 1

"Where exactly are you taking me?"

"You will see."

"Why won't you just tell me?" Richard asked, irritated. Around midnight, the huntsman had barged into his room, shook him until he woke him up, roughly grabbed his arm and put him on his feet. He didn't even let Richard put on a coat or proper boots that would protect him from the cold and he dragged him out of the castle without uttering a word. After asking many questions most of which had been left unanswered, all Richard found out was that the huntsman was acting on the queen's orders. Richard didn't even try to fight him; besides being bigger and stronger, the man was carrying a gun on his back.

"Stop talking," the huntsman said. That really wasn't the reply Richard had been hoping for.

"You could have at least let me change my clothes, I'm freezing! How long is this trip going to take?"

"Shut up."

Richard was getting angrier by the second. "I am your prince, you imbecile! You should show me some goddamn respect."

"I'm only doing what my queen asked of me."

"Did she also ask you to be this cryptic?"

The huntsman said nothing.

Richard touched his face and he could feel wetness on the tips of his fingers. Raindrops. "It's starting to rain," he said.

"I can see that."

"I can't feel my toes anymore. Whatever you're supposed to do with me... couldn't it wait until the morning? Can't you bring me back to my chambers now?" Richard pleaded, although he already knew the answer.

"No."

Wait, Richard knew this path. If he wasn't mistaken, it led straight to the... "Forest? Why are we going to the forest?!" This couldn't mean anything good. Fear started creeping into his thoughts. God, what if his mother wanted this man to shoot him? Richard knew she hated him, but could she actually be capable of letting someone murder her own son?

Yes, Richard realised with terror, she could. So this was it, those were to be his last moments. He didn't want to die, he couldn't die, not yet, please...

As they entered the forest, Richard could hear a noise cut through the silence. Was that an owl? Or a wolf? Yes, it sounded more like a wolf's howling. He shivered.

After wandering through the woods for what felt like forever, the huntsman stopped. "Alright, this might be far enough..." he muttered under his breath. Then, he looked at Richard.

"Don't kill me. Please. Please, I am begging you," Richard whispered.

"Do you know what the queen ordered me to do? She told me to lead you deep into the forest, tear your heart out of your chest and bring it to her. Then I should bury your body somewhere around here where no one would ever find it."

Richard wanted to say something, wanted to keep begging for his life, but the words got stuck in his throat. He was so scared he could barely breathe.

"Quite cruel, isn't it? You must have really pissed her off."

After a few seconds, Richard finally managed to find his voice. "She has always hated me because of something that stupid magic mirror told her, something about how I'm supposed to be her doom, but… it's all just rubbish and I haven't done anything wrong! Please... don't do this. Or... or at least... make it quick, don't... don't make me suffer."

"I don't want to become a murderer, believe me." The huntsman paused. "But can you imagine what the queen will do to me if she finds out I disobeyed her?"

"She doesn't have to find out!" Richard said quickly. "Let me go and I swear I'll never come anywhere near that castle again! You can bring her the heart of some animal and she'll be satisfied."

"Well... You know what? This forest is huge and unless you know it well, the chances of you getting out of here are very slim. Especially on a night like this." The man sighed. "I'll let the gods decide your fate. I will leave you here. You'll most likely freeze to death or get eaten by some hungry animal, but... you can still hope for a miracle. That's the most I can do for you."

And then, in the blink of an eye, the huntsman was gone.

*

Richard was hopelessly lost. He had been walking in circles for god knows how long, getting colder and weaker with each step. His attempts to find a way back home were futile, he realised. Despite having convinced the huntsman to show him mercy, he would still die here. All alone.

Richard sank down to his knees, his legs would no longer carry him. There was no point in clinging to false hopes, even if he found the strength to go on, he wouldn't know where to go. Having come to terms with his cruel fate, Richard closed his eyes. He wasn't afraid anymore, he was… angry. Angry at his mother for letting this happen. All those years she had treated him terribly, never had a kind word for him, and yet he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, she had held at least a little bit of love for him in her corrupted heart. How wrong he was...

The anger soon began to diminish, sadness and loneliness replacing it. As the son of a hateful mother who was his only family, he knew these emotions all too well. Why did life have to be so unfair? Maybe it was a good thing he was about to die, at least he wouldn’t have to go through another day of feeling like a complete waste of space. At least his suffering would stop.

There were tears in his eyes and he didn't care to stop them from falling. He took a shaky breath, waiting for the inevitable.

*

Something was wrong, Paul could tell. When you live somewhere as long as he has lived in the forest, you can feel it in your bones when something bad happens. He could hear it in the animals' howling, in the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the trees. The sounds of the nature usually soothed him, but now there was something sinister about them, as if the forest was calling to him for help. Hastily, he dressed up and left his house, knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anyway until he found out what was going on.

After wandering around for some time, he saw a body lying in the grass. He cursed quietly, hoping it wasn't too late. He rushed towards the body and knelt down next to it, looking for any signs of life. He sighed with relief. There was pulse, although weak. The stranger lived, but he probably didn't have much time left. Paul took off his coat and carefully wrapped the man up, determined to take him back to his cabin and make sure he survives.

Walking as quickly as he could while carrying the body, he finally reached his destination.

"Shit," Paul murmured after laying the man down in his bed and lighting the lanterns. He was beautiful, but his face was unnaturally pale and his lips turning blue. He was barely breathing. Paul made a fire in the fireplace, rummaged through his cupboard and took out the warmest clothes he managed to find to put them on his guest.

When he was about to prepare some tea, Paul heard a soft cough coming from behind him. He turned around to see the stranger open his eyes.

"Where am I? What happened?" he asked, his voice faint.

"I found you outside, lying on the ground and unconscious, so I brought you to my place," Paul replied.

"These aren't my clothes."

"They're mine, yours were thin and wet, I put them next to the fireplace so that they'd dry faster. What were you thinking, running around in the middle of the night dressed like this?"

"You think it was my decision? Do I look like an idiot?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. Look, I get that you're not feeling well, but when someone saves your life, I'd say it's pretty impolite to snap at them when they ask you a simple question."

"You're right," the man sighed. "It was very kind of you to help me. I am sorry."

"It's alright. What's your name?"

"Richard. What is yours?"

"Paul. Nice to…" Suddenly, Paul's eyes went wide. Black hair, blue eyes, expensive looking clothing and rings… There was no doubt about who this man was. "Holy shit. Richard as in… the prince?"

"The one and only," Richard smirked. He coughed a couple of times and then sighed.

"The cough is irritating, I know, but hey, you're really lucky to be alive. Wait, I'll make you some tea, that could help a bit."

"Thank you," Richard said quietly.

For a few moments, they both remained silent. When the tea was ready, Paul placed it on the bedside table and asked, "So what happened?"

Richard told him about the huntsman dragging him away from his bed and leaving him in the forest to die because the queen wanted to get rid of her son for good. When Richard finished his story, Paul could only stare at him in horror. "Oh god, that's terrible… I can't believe your own mother would do this."

"I can," Richard said bitterly.

"I am so sorry," Paul whispered. Richard shrugged, feigning indifference, but Paul could clearly see the pain in his eyes.

"What can I say. Life is shit," Richard said and coughed again.  He took a sip of his tea.

"You should probably get some sleep, Richard. Or Your Highness. Or however the hell I am supposed to call you."

"Honestly, what you call me is the last of my concerns right now. Use just my name if you want, you saved my life so I guess you've earned that right. And I do need some sleep, I've had a bit of a tough day, after all," Richard said wryly.

"Yeah, that's one way to put it. Well, good night then."

"Night," Richard muttered and closed his eyes.

*

When he woke up the next day, it took Richard a moment to remember where he was and how he got there. The shirt he had on was too itchy, the bed not comfortable enough and he could hear someone snoring softly; this was very different from his mornings home.

Then he realised he didn't actually have a home anymore and he could feel his heart clench. What was he supposed to do now? Where would he go? He couldn't stay here in this cabin forever and he couldn't return to the castle either. If he did, his mother would first execute the huntsman for disobeying his orders and then Richard for who knows what reasons exactly, probably because he dared to exist.

He glanced at Paul, who was still asleep. The man was lying on some sort of an impromptu bed he had built yesterday by piling up blankets, pillows and some pieces of cloth on the ground until he found the nest comfortable enough to sleep in. He didn't look exactly graceful, half buried in a pile of fabric and with his mouth slightly open. Richard smirked.

He had not drunk all his tea last night, so he reached for the mug to take a gulp. However, being sleepy and still feeling somewhat numb after yesterday's incident, he only managed to knock the mug down and spill its contents all over the floor.

Paul, startled by the noise, sat up with his eyes wide open. When he saw the spilt liquid and Richard's apologetic face, he giggled. "Well good morning to you too, Richard."

"Um. Sorry for that."

Paul waved his hand dismissively and stood up to deal with the mess. "It's okay. How are you feeling?"

Richard rubbed his eyes, wondering just how honest he should be. "I've… seen better days. But it could be worse. I'll be fine." Truth be told, physically, he wasn't feeling as bad as he had expected. It was mostly his thoughts that were driving him insane.

"So you're feeling like shit," Paul said while cleaning the floor.

"…something like that, yeah." One part of Richard wanted to talk about everything that was going on in his head, to share his worries with someone else, but he didn't feel comfortable opening up to someone he hardly knew. "How did you find me, by the way? Do you often just take walks in the middle of the night?"

"I do sometimes, when I can't sleep and need to sort out my thoughts. But this time, it was… call it intuition. I woke up and suddenly I knew something was wrong."

"That sounds like magic… Are you a sorcerer or something?"

That made Paul laugh. "No! Look, nature has its own language and after some time living surrounded by it, sometimes you can understand what it's trying to say. Some people say that magical creatures used to inhabit this forest many years ago, so maybe some of their magic is still present here. I don't know. There was this sense of… desperation and wrongness, and I knew I had to fix it."

For a while, Richard was quiet. Then he said, "Before the huntsman left me, he was saying something about fate and miracles. I've never really believed in fate, but… what else could this be? Do you think that maybe, for some reason, I was supposed to survive?"

Paul shrugged. "It's possible. You weren't too happy while living in that castle, right? Maybe this is something like a new beginning and everything will be better from now on."

Richard wanted to believe Paul's words, he really did, but his nature wouldn't allow it. He dropped his gaze and shook his head. "No. If fate wants me alive, it's just to prolong my suffering. I've spent my whole life in the castle and you're right, I was miserable there, but I doubt anything will get better just because I was forced to leave. I'm so lost, Paul, I have no idea what to do or where to go. I don't have anyone who would help me. I was supposed to rule and now I'll have to spend the rest of my days running and hiding and sleeping under bridges and begging for food. You might have saved me yesterday, but I'm afraid it was all for nothing. Maybe it would have been better if I had just died there." Shit, has he really just said all that? So much for not opening up to strangers, he thought bitterly.

Paul moved closer to him and laid his hand on Richard's shoulder, his eyes kind and full of sympathy. "Hey, don't be so pessimistic. I know you're overwhelmed and it seems like there's no way out, but… there always is. You'll see. And until you figure out what to do next, you can stay. You'll be safe, no one should find you here."

"Why are you doing this?" Richard asked with a small frown. He wasn't used to people being kind to him without ulterior motives. It was probably stupid of him to be suspicious of Paul, but he couldn't help it, couldn't stop his paranoia from showing. Maybe Paul finding him wasn't fate, maybe it was all a part of some big terrible plan that would end in his death. What if Paul had some sort of a deal with the huntsman or even with the queen?

God, he was being ridiculous. If only he could shut that part of his brain that kept troubling him with disastrous scenarios… Paul saved his life and seemed to be a nice and honest man. Richard shouldn't be doubting him.

Paul shrugged. "I wouldn't send someone away in a time of need, that's just not who I am."

"Thank you. I wish I could repay you somehow... If I ever become king, I'll make you a rich man, I can promise you that."

Paul let out a quiet laugh, his nose crinkling up slightly. "Why thank you, Your Royal Highness, but that won't be necessary. I already have everything I need. All I ask is that you help me with some of the housework. I know you're probably just used to sitting on your butt and letting your servants take care of everything, but I don't think it's unreasonable to want you to clean up once in a while and wash your own dirty socks."

Richard blinked. Most people tended to speak to him in an overly polite but distant kind of fashion. Paul, on the other hand, apparently had no problem joking around him and acting as if they were old friends. It was… refreshing. "As long as I don't have to wash _your_ socks, too…"

"Now that you've mentioned it… " Paul grinned. "It might be fun, having my own personal servant. I'd just lie here, look pretty, eat grapes and use long words to talk about things I don't actually understand, or what is it you rich people do in your free time.  Meanwhile you'd prepare five course meals for me and do my pedicure."

"You know what, I don't need a place to stay that badly. I think I'd rather have my mother execute me than clip someone's toenails."

"Well, it was just an idea. No servants for me then, it will have to be enough that you don't make a total mess out of this place or don't burn it down or something. So, do we have a deal?"

Richard smiled and nodded. "We do."


	2. Chapter 2

"We're all supposed to wear black just because some royal idiot kicked the bucket... It's so stupid. If any of us normal citizens died, he wouldn't have cared either, so why should we? Paul? Are you okay?"

It was only then that Paul realised he had been staring at the merchant as if the man had murdered his grandmother. Despite having met Richard only about a week ago, he couldn't help but feel offended on his behalf.

The prince's alleged passing was the only thing everyone in the city seemed to talk about that day. Paul had come to the city just to get some supplies, but the gossip was impossible to avoid. None of these people  had ever met Richard, yet most of them seemed convinced that he was some sort of a villain. Those who liked the queen hated her son because so did she, while those who hated the queen hated Richard simply because he was her son.

Paul was a man who rarely got angry, but now his fists were clenching. He didn't know Richard that well, but he still knew him better than nearly everyone in this city. _He doesn't deserve your scorn,_ Paul thought. _You all complain about him never going to the city to talk to the common folk, but what else was he supposed to do when his mother kept him locked in his chambers for most of the time? Does it make you feel good to talk shit about him when he's not here to defend himself?_

"I'm fine, just got lost in thought. Sorry," Paul said with a forced smile. The merchant, Flake, was a good man and a friend of his, but now that Paul was hiding a member of the royal family in his cabin, he wasn't quite in the mood to talk to someone who believed the nobles were to blame for everything that was wrong with his life. "How much do I owe you?"

Paul paid for his purchase, said goodbye and headed back to the forest. He had bought something to eat and drink as well as some new clothes for Richard. Despite acting less spoilt than Paul would expect from a prince, Richard still wasn't too excited about having to borrow someone else's clothes. Upon finding out he was about to go to the market, Richard gave Paul some of his money and asked him to get him something he could wear. Paul chose something a bit more expensive than he would usually pick for himself, but not expensive enough to seem suspicious. If someone saw a regular man such as himself with golden coins in his hands, they'd only come to the conclusion he had stolen them and call the city guard.

When Paul arrived home, he was welcomed by a frowning Richard standing in the door. "Where the hell have you been?"

Paul laughed. "Calm down, mother hen. The marketplace was crowded, so it took a while to get everything I needed. Missed me?"

In place of replying, Richard rolled his eyes. Paul smirked and sat down.

"By the way," he said, "I got us some wine. Thought some alcohol might cheer you up a bit."

"I'm fine, I don't need anything to cheer me up," Richard said defensively.

Paul snorted. "Right. No offense, but you're grumpy all the time."

"I am not!" Richard snapped. "But even if I was, could you blame me? My life is shit." Dramatic as ever.

"I wasn't blaming you for anything, I just thought a bit of wine might be good for you." Paul poured them both a glass. "So, what will we toast to?"

"I don't know... Good luck, good health, the usual stuff?"

"Sounds good to me," Paul grinned and raised his glass.

*

"Let's play a game."

"A game? What are we, children?"

"We're adults who have had a bit too much to drink, that's similar," Paul giggled.

"We haven't drunk that much," said Richard, whose speech was a bit too loud and a bit too slurred to support his statement.

"Oh but we have," Paul said, putting his arm around Richard's shoulders and grinning. They were sitting next to each other in the grass, listening to the calming sound of the small bonfire crackling in front of them. At some point during the evening, Richard had decided he wanted to go outside to get some fresh air and Paul had agreed. The weather was quite cold, but they had dressed accordingly and Paul had brought some blankets they could wrap themselves in if the need arose. The bonfire radiated heat, too, and the wine helped warm them up from inside.

Richard didn't seem to mind drunk Paul being more touchy-feely than usual, he just smirked and said, "Alright, maybe we have. So, what kind of a game did you have in mind?"

"Just some… talking game. Nothing difficult. Something to get to know each other better."

Richard seemed a bit sceptical about that idea, but he relented. "We can try, I guess. But if you're too nosy…"

"No no, don't worry, it will be fun. I wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable," Paul said with a reassuring smile. "It's called two truths and a lie. You say three sentences…"

"Two of which are true and one is false?"

"See how smart you are! You'll do great."

At that, Richard smirked. In many ways, he still posed a mystery to Paul. One minute he was talkative and witty, the next he was frowning and sulking and refusing to say anything. He was a strange mix of reserved and amicable, as if he wanted to make friends but was afraid for some reason. Paul noticed how Richard always expected the worst possible outcome and appeared to be suspicious of everything. What Paul considered to be a small victory was the fact that with each passing day, Richard seemed a bit more relaxed in his company and smiled more often. Come to think of it, Paul wasn't sure why exactly it mattered to him what Richard's opinion of him was, but it did. So far, Paul enjoyed being around his guest, he thought it was nice to have some company after having lived on his own for years.  He saw Richard as his friend, or was starting to see him as one, so it probably made sense he wanted Richard to like spending time with him too, right?

"It was your idea, so you start," Richard said.

"Fair enough." It only took Paul a moment to come up with something he could say. "Right. Number one, I know how to read. Number two, summer is my favourite time of the year. Number three, I'm scared of snakes."

Richard frowned slightly, repeating the sentences to himself and trying to guess the right answer. "Something tells me you do like summer, I think that one is true. As for the rest... I don't know. Most people who aren't from noble families can't afford to go to school, so... Number one is a lie?"

"No!" Paul said with a triumphant grin. "I can read actually, my friend Oliver taught me. I'm not what you'd call a fast reader and my handwriting looks terrible, but still, it's better than nothing."

"In that case... it's the snakes. You're not afraid of snakes."

"I'm not," Paul nodded. "I mean obviously if I saw a giant venomous snake crawling towards me I wouldn't be too happy about that, but... other than that, I like those creatures. Sometimes they can be pretty funny, like when they raise their little heads up and look around judgingly. I just really love animals, they all have their own interesting habits and it can be so entertaining to watch them. I like birds for example, the way they sing and hop around on their tiny legs... And most of them are really smart, too. Or foxes, foxes are..." Paul stopped, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Holy shit, I'm babbling... That's the wine, I'm sorry, I must be boring you to death."

He gave Richard an apologetic look, but Richard didn't seeem to be bored or annoyed by his monologue. On the contrary, there was a soft amused smile on his face. "No, it's fine."

Paul cleared his throat. "Okay... Anyway, it's your turn now."

"But what about the foxes?"

"Huh?"

"You were about to tell me why you like foxes," Richard reminded him, still smiling. "I want to know. You can't just start saying something and then not finish it, that's rude."

_He has a lovely smile,_ Paul thought dazedly. _He should smile more often._ "Oh. Right. Foxes." He had to clear his throat again. Fucking alcohol, there should be some laws against drinking around handsome people, how was he supposed to think coherently? "They're beautiful and they always look like they know something you don't. And now it really is your turn."

"Alright," Richard nodded and immersed himself in his thoughts.

For some time, he was quiet. When it seemed to Paul the silence had been stretching out too long, he interrupted Richard, "Have you fallen asleep?"

Richard lifted his gaze. "What? Um, no. Sorry, I just can't come up with anything interesting I could say about myself…"

"It doesn't have to be anything too deep, make me guess your favourite colour or something."

Richard sighed and fell silent again. Then, "Okay, I got it. One, my favourite colour is red. Two, I'm interested in astronomy. Three, I like to sing when no one can hear me."

Remembering how Richard insisted that Paul buy him either black or at least dark grey clothes, Paul smirked. "I think red isn't your favourite colour. It's black."

Richard shook his head. "No, it's actually red."

"But... your clothes!"

Richard shrugged. "I like black, too. Also it's good for every occasion and I think it suits me better. Three was the lie, I never cared about astronomy. My tutor was an arrogant prick and he could never hold my attention for more than five minutes straight."

"Aw, and here I was hoping you'd tell me something about all those stars up there," Paul sighed, feigning disappointment. He sometimes used constellations to guide him in the dark, but in most cases, he only remembered their shapes and not what they were called.

Richard drunk the rest of the wine that had been left in his glass, lay back on the ground and gestured Paul to move closer before pointing a finger somewhere at the sky. "That... is a star. With three more stars to the left. And above them is, wait for it, also a star. Together, they form some sort of a... I don't know. Some sort of a weird pentagon. There's plenty of stars in the night sky, they're all small and bright and fucking identical. Lesson over, thank you for your attention."

"That was very educational," Paul said and burst into laughter. Richard joined him. Soon they were both gasping for breath, not even sure why they were laughing so hard but unable to stop themselves.

Paul hadn't seen Richard laugh before, not so freely and sincerely. It took him a while to realise he had been staring at Richard, mesmerized by the way the soft glow of the bonfire was reflecting in his blue eyes.

The sound of Richard's voice was what brought him back into reality. "Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"I think all that educating must have exhausted me... Let's go get some sleep."

A bit reluctantly, Paul agreed. He slowly stood up, brushed the dirt off his trousers and starting walking towards the cabin, swaying slightly as he did. Richard's walk was just as unsteady as his, but they managed to get to their beds safely.

As soon as Paul's head hit the pillow, he was asleep, a small smile on his lips.

*

No really, what was he still doing here? Paul insisted that he stay hidden a bit longer, at least until his assumed death wasn't everyone's favourite topic anymore, but... Richard couldn't shake off the feeling he was imposing himself on Paul, exploiting his hospitality. Not that Paul ever showed any actual signs of being bothered by his presence, but he had to be, right? He had to be.

Richard was getting too used to living here and he knew it was wrong. Here he was relatively safe, had food, a roof above his head and someone to talk to; however, he had to come to terms with the fact he would spend the rest of his life on the run and all alone. Imagining his future was making him want to scream and cry and hide in a corner somewhere, but it was how things were. There was no escape and the longer he would stay here, the harder it would be to leave. He couldn't afford to start thinking of this place as his home, he simply couldn't.

It was a nice and calm evening, Paul was idly sitting on his bed and Richard was - albeit reluctantly - washing the dishes. It was so absurd, he was basically just waiting for his death yet here he was, cleaning plates and forks and listening to Paul whistling. It was so normal it was maddening.

"I have to leave," Richard blurted out suddenly. "As soon as possible."

The whistling ceased and the next sound that left Paul's lips was a heavy sigh. "Richard, we've talked about this. It's not safe for you to go yet-"

Richard interrupted him, "It will never be safe. I... I've been thinking, and I might have a plan."

"What plan?"

"Well, it occurred to me... I could leave the kingdom and try my luck in the neighborhood. I could ask prince Christoph for help. Have I mentioned he and I were kind of engaged?"

 Paul almost fell out of his bed. "You were what?!"

Seeing Paul's shocked expression made Richard chuckle. "Yeah. I mean it was never official, but we both kind of expected to marry each other at some point." Since it could produce no heirs, marriage between two men wasn't too common, but not entirely unheard of either. Sometimes noble families decided to have their two sons or two daughters marry for political reasons. Richard also remembered hearing the story of two princesses who fell in love, got married despite  their parents' wishes, almost started a war in the process and then ruled the land together.

"You were supposed to marry prince Christoph. That prince Christoph who thinks it's funny to put leashes on his servants and walk them like dogs? He's mad! A fucking sadist!"

"His family is one of our most important allies and the marriage was supposed to secure our alliance. Mad or not, he's important."

"And you want to go begging for help to someone like him?" Paul said, his voice full of disbelief. "He sees his subjects as less than people, he thinks he's superior to everyone else. That man doesn't have a heart!"

"I don't need him to have a heart, I just need him to have enough power to keep me alive."

Paul rubbed his eyes tiredly. He stood up and began pacing around the room. "Right. So. Let's say you manage to reach the borders and get an audience with him. What then? What do you expect to happen?"

Richard shrugged helplessly. "I... don't know."

"You think he's going to keep you around against your mother's will and risk destroying the alliance between our two kingdoms? Or that he's going to team up with you and help you kill the queen?"

"I don't know, damn it!"

Paul shook his head. "This isn't a plan, it's madness. Richard... Why are you so keen on getting out of here? Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"You said I could stay until I find a solution… But there is no solution, waiting won't change that and I can't just stay here forever, so..." Richard bit his lip.

His words put a slight frown on Paul's face. "This is about me, isn't it? If you lived here on your own, I'm sure you wouldn't be in such a rush. Either I've done something wrong and now you're upset with me or you feel like I don't want you here. So which one is it?"

Richard had to stop and think for a while before replying, "As I've already said, I can't be here forever. Eventually, I'll have to leave and I see no reason to keep postponing that moment. You've done enough for me, for which I am grateful, but… I feel like an intruder. I'm sleeping in your bed and eating your food and…"

Paul interrupted him, "Now I'm going to give you a question and I need you to answer me honestly, okay? Do you actually have a proper plan, a doable and well thought-out one that you are absolutely sure will ensure your safety?"

"Well…"

"Yes or no?"

Richard sighed. "No, not exactly."

"Then that's it, you're not leaving."

"But Paul…"

"No buts. Listen… I didn't save your life that day just so that you could do something stupid and die anyway, alright? Whether you have to stay here for another week or month or even for the next thirty fucking years, I'm not letting you  go until it's absolutely safe for you. I don't want you to get hurt or captured or murdered or anything like that. You're not an intruder and you're not using me, I have willingly offered you a place to stay and you are welcome here. I don't mind you being here at all, it's actually nice to be able to talk to someone. "

Richard gaped at him. Was he being serious? He probably was, but he would change his mind sooner or later, of that Richard was sure. Maybe Paul wasn't annoyed by his presence yet, but that wouldn't last long. "I… I don't want you to hate me," he said quietly.

Paul blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"You'll get tired of me, just like everyone else. Now you're saying I can be here however long I want, but give it some time and you'll see things differently. You'll get to know the real me and you'll hate me. I'm not a good person, I'm not kind or smart or brave or anything, you know. Trust me, one day you're going to regret ever meeting me. You'll kick me out, hoping you'll never see me again. No one ever thought I was worth their time, people always look down on me and talk behind my back and barely say more than hi to me. I guess there has to be a reason for that, I guess I'm just somehow… fucked up, or I don't know. Everybody hates me, I don't see why it should be any different with you."

Now it was Paul's turn to stare wordlessly. Slowly, he stood up and took a few steps towards Richard. "I won't hate you," he said quietly. "And there's nothing wrong with you, it's not your fault you were surrounded by people who were cold and uncaring. I'm not like that, I won't send you away. We've been getting on well so far… and we are friends, right? I think you're funny and nice and I like spending time with you. You should stop selling yourself short, you're not a bad person."

Richard didn't know what to say. The only compliments he was used to receving were aimed at his looks. He was very well aware most considered him to be a handsome man and during the years he had lived in the castle, he would often use this fact to his advantage. The servants as well as other people working in the castle were forbidden from speaking to him, which was the queen's way of ensuring Richard wouldn't befriend any of them. He sometimes tried to approach some of his subjects and talk to them when he was sure the queen was out of reach, but he succeeded only rarely, and usually only with young women. He would wink and smile at them and flirt, hoping they would respond. He had managed to get a few kisses, sometimes the girls even agreed to accompany him to his chambers, but in the end, he always woke up alone in his bed and never saw the girl again. It was the only way he knew to alleviate his loneliness, but to be honest, it wasn't very helpful. He wanted someone who would be there for him, someone he could tell anything and wake up next to them and kiss them anytime he wanted, but that simply wasn't an option. No one would get closer to him out of the fear of the queen's wrath. And he didn't blame them, but god did it hurt sometimes.

Before he could come up with a meaningful answer, Paul put an arm around him in some sort of a half-hug. "It's all going to be okay, really, you don't have to be afraid. We'll find a way to deal with all of this."

And in that moment, Richard believed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the kudos and lovely comments, they're highly appreciated <3  
> (Btw this following chapter is pretty short, sorry for that!)

_"You've ruined my life, I hope you reali_ _se_ _that," the queen snarled at him._

_Richard raised his eyebrow. "Oh, have I? How so?"_

_They were standing in the middle of the queen's garden. It was winter, the trees were bare and the ground hidden under a thick layer of snow, but strangely, Richard didn't feel cold at all._

_"Right after you were born, I asked my mirror about you."_

_Richard rolled his eyes – here it was again. "Yes, yes, I've heard that story a million times, can we move on to something else now?"_

_The queen continued as if she hadn't heard him. "And the mirror said that one day, I would die because of you. I was shaken to the core. My own child, betraying me like this? At first I couldn't believe it, but watching you grow up into this… this selfish good-for-nothing that you are now has convinced me."_

_"If I wanted you dead, mother, don't you think I would have killed you already? I've had countless opportunities."_

_"The mirror never lies," she snapped at him. "I brought you into this world, I raised you… and you think I will let you repay me by ending my life? That's not happening. Not if I kill you first."_

_Richard's first instinct was to ask if this was some kind of a stupid joke, but he could see in his mother's eyes that she was deadly serious. His instincts were telling him to get away from her, but when he tried to move, he couldn't. His limbs weren't listening to him. Richard's eyes went wide. "What the hell have you done to me?!"_

_"I've made sure you wouldn't try to run," she said sweetly, walking closer to him. "You see, I've brought my favourite weapon with me and it would be such a pity if I didn't get to use it…"_

_"The golden comb," he whispered. He knew the comb was laced with some sort of a deadly poison that, instead of killing its victim instantly, took days to slowly drain the life out of them. Richard wasn't sure how exactly it worked or how much it hurt, but it most certainly couldn't have been a pleasant experience._

_The queen nodded, a cruel smile on her face._ _Slowly, so painfully slowly she approached him. His body was still unresponsive, as if made of stone. All he could do was helplessly watch his mother lift her hand -_

_-and cry out as the sharp golden teeth of the comb sank into his shoulder._

_*_

_"_ Richard! Hey, can you hear me?"

Richard's eyes flew open. Still overcome with fear, he was about to throw himself at whomever was standing in front of him, but then his brain caught up.

 _That's Paul you idiot,_ was the thought that made him draw back. It was all just a bad dream, he knew, but he couldn't shake off the horrible feeling that had taken control over him. He was trembling and unable to properly focus on anything, as if the world around him wasn't real, or as if he wasn't real.

"Richard!" Paul's voice was so full of worry Richard forced himself to look up. "Are you alright?"

Even if Richard tried to lie, Paul wouldn't fall for it anyway, so he just shook his head. Paul sat down onto the bed, right next to him. Richard turned his head away in shame; he had to look pathetic. It was just a stupid dream, so why the hell did his mind and his body have to overreact like this?

"You screamed from your sleep... Nightmare, right?" Paul asked him quietly.

Richard, too embarrassed to say anything, didn't reply. Paul shifted a bit and suddenly, to Richard's surprise, Paul's arms were wrapped around him and pulling him close.

"It's okay now," he whispered soothingly, "whatever you saw there wasn't real. I'm here with you, you're safe."

Richard hesitantly raised his arms and returned the hug, resting his cheek on Paul's shoulder. His breathing was heavy and his heart racing but eventually he started to relax. He remained silent, letting Paul hold him and concentrating on his soothing words and his warmth and the way he was stroking his back gently.

Richard had had many nightmares in his life and it usually took him much longer to calm down after waking up in cold sweat, but Paul's presence was making him feel safer. It was easier to forget about all the fears that haunted him when he had someone like Paul, caring and protective and always optimistic, by his side. _If I leave, what the hell am I going to do without him?_

Once he felt he was calm enough to be able to keep his voice steady, Richard said, "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"It's nothing. Want to talk about that dream?"

"My mother has this... well it looks like a comb, but not one you'd want to brush your hair with. It's a weapon actually, very sharp and enchanted. After it was made, it was coated in some strange magical poison. It works slowly but it's lethal. My mother liked to use it as a tool for execution, first cutting someone's skin so that the poison would enter their body and then locking them in a cell and letting them die.

In the dream, she cut me with the comb. Not without first letting me know what a useless piece of shit I am, of course. A very pleasant dream, really," Richard sighed.

Paul's grip on him tightened. "I'm sorry about that... Has this happened to you before?"

"You mean having nightmares where someone kills me? Yeah, once in a while," Richard said with a bitter smile.

"My friend, Oliver, is a healer. I'll visit him tomorrow and ask him about something that might help you sleep better."

"Thanks," Richard murmured. "You know, I might be starting to be grateful that the huntsman dragged me here and almost killed me."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I met you."

"Oh you flatterer..." Richard could tell from Paul's voice that he was smiling. "I'm also glad I met you, I just wish the circumstances were a bit less... grim."

"Maybe this really is a new beginning... maybe things will get better now. Damn, I think your optimism is rubbing off on me."

Paul giggled. "That's a good thing though, isn't it?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Richard?"

"Yes?"

"You got any nicknames? Because Richard is so... formal."

"Um…" That wasn't a question Richard expected. "I don't know, not really. Well, my nannies called me Reesh, but..."

"Reesh? I like that."

"And you don't like Richard?"

Paul laughed. "Sure I do, Your Highness. How are you feeling, by the way? Is it better now?"

"It is."

"Do you think you'll be able to fall asleep again?"

Richard shrugged. "I hope so. I can try."

Paul cleared his throat. "So... should I go back to my bed now, or..."

"Could you stay? Please?" Richard didn't even care anymore if he sounded desperate, he needed Paul right now.

"Of course," Paul said with a soft smile. For a moment, he let Richard go so that they could lie down in a more comfortable position. Paul covered them both with a blanket and pulled Richard close again.

Paul seemed to have fallen asleep within a few minutes. Although Richard couldn't get completely rid of this fear lingering in the back of his head, it seemed to matter less and less as seconds went by. He couldn't remember when was the last time someone treated him as gently as Paul, or the last time he felt so good around anothed person.

Eventually, the sound of Paul's steady breathing as well as his general presence lulled Richard back to sleep.

No nightmares bothered him this time.

*

Despite drinking Oliver's special calming tea every evening, Richard's nightmares wouldn't cease. Perhaps they were a bit less violent, but he still didn't get much sleep. During daytime, he was tired and irritated and, which was making him feel somewhat guilty, the tiredness affected Paul as well. He was a light sleeper and whenever Richard would thrash around in his bed or mumble incoherent troubled words - he didn't scream in his sleep anymore thanks to Oliver's tea - it woke Paul up.

The second and third time Richard had a nightmare, Paul crawled into his bed again to comfort him. After that, Paul stopped sleeping in the other bed altogether, falling asleep by Richard's side every night instead.

Sometimes Richard slept soundly, sometimes the nightmares wouldn't let him. They were all similar, nearly identical, except for small details. They always featured his mother demeaning and trying to kill him, only sometimes the trees around them were in bloom, then they were bare, then she was wearing a green dress instead of black… No major changes, though.

Until one night.


	4. Chapter 4

When Paul returned home from the city that day and greeted Richard, he knew his smile looked forced, but it was the best he could do. It was hard to fake happiness when the knot of worry in his stomach wouldn't stop growing.

Richard frowned, immediately noticing something was off. "What's wrong, Paul?"

During his way back, Paul kept asking himself whether he should share the news with Richard, knowing the prince well enough to be afraid he'd do something stupid, but in the end, his honesty won. Besides, Paul sucked at lying to the people he cared about and he knew he couldn't keep things secret for too long anyway. "At the city square, there was... there was a public execution."

"Is that what bothers you? I mean it's not exactly nice to look at, of course, but... these things happen all the time, you know? And most of the people who get hanged are criminals, so..."

"It was the queen's huntsman, he was executed for disobeying his orders. That was all the executioner said. I took a walk around the square, listened to people, talked to them... and there's rumours that you're still alive and the queen is looking for you. It might not be true, but..."

Without a single word, Richard rushed out of the cabin. Probably to do something stupid, Paul thought and followed him resignedly.

He was provided with a view of Richard cursing and kicking anything that got in his way, be it stones or tree stumps or mushrooms. That didn’t seem to satisfy him, so he moved on to punching the nearest tree. By doing so, he must have bruised his knuckles, but at that moment, Richard didn’t seem to care about pain.

When his fit ended, he sank down to the ground. His eyes were wide, his lower lip trembling and he looked so utterly lost it was making Paul's heart ache.

"I'm sure it was that fucking mirror... It revealed to her what really happened in the forest, she killed the huntsman and now she's going to kill me, too."

Paul sat down next to him, placing his hand on Richard's knee. "Do you think she knows where you are?"

"I don't know, maybe. I'm sure she's asked the mirror about that, but god knows if it replied. The mirror likes to speak in riddles, sometimes it ignores your question and sometimes it gives you an answer to a completely different one."

"So maybe she doesn't know," Paul said with a weak smile. "This forest is huge and easy to get lost in, you know that better than anyone. Even if she sends her guards here, chances are they won't find you. And it's likely she won't send them here at all, maybe she has no idea where you are."

"I knew this would happen," Richard whispered, pale as a ghost. "I told you I wouldn't be safe here, I told you it would all go to hell sooner or later, didn't I?" His voice was almost hysterical now. "I'm dead, I'm fucking dead, there's no way she won't find me, maybe I should kill myself before she gets the chance, at least it would be instant and I'd deprive her of the pleasure of doing it herself... Why me, why does it have to be me? Why can't I have a normal happy life and a normal family, what have I done to deserve this?"

"She won't find you, Reesh," Paul murmured, hugging his friend.

"You can't know that!" Richard sounded as if he was about to burst into tears. "I have to get out of here, I can't let them find you... If my mother finds out you've been helping me, she... Shit, I should never have stayed here! I should have left right after the day you found me, as soon as I was strong enough to walk. Now I've dragged you into this mess and... what if she already knows we're here, what if she knows who you are? What if she hurts you? Paul, I am so sorry, I'm such a fucking idiot... If something happens to you, I'll never forgive myself."

Richard was right; if he stayed any longer, it would undoubtedly put Paul in danger. Any sane person would send him away out of fear for their own safety. "Richard... Don't go anywhere, please. Look, I've told you already that I'm somehow... connected to this place, right? I can tell when something's wrong, that's how I found you. If someone comes here looking for you - and I said if, it might not happen at all - with the intention to kill you, I'll know. I'll know it soon enough and then we'll run and find another place to hide. They won't catch you, I promise."

"It's all pointless. I'm going to die. You might die too, and all because of me..."

"No one's dying here," Paul said firmly. "As I've said, I would sense them coming."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?"

"Yes, I am." To be honest he wasn't nearly as sure as he pretended to be, but he needed to prevent Richard from getting himself killed. "I won't let anyone get to you, don't worry."

Richard sighed, pulling away from Paul. "I have a really bad feeling about this."

You have a really bad feeling about everything, Paul almost said. Instead, he looked Richard in the eye and asked in a serious voice, "Richard... Do you trust me?"

Richard blinked several times, then dropped his gaze. Well. Honestly, that wasn't quite the response Paul had hoped for, but all things considered, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him. Richard didn't seem as the type to whom trust came easily, judging from how wary of Paul he was when they were starting to get to know each other. Whenever Paul had offered to do something for Richard during the first days of his stay, he could see Richard getting suspicious, probably wondering what Paul could possibly get out of this.

"Yes, I do," Richard said quietly, studying his shoes.

Paul couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. "Good. You said you've dragged me in your mess, but actually, I did that myself. When I found you, unconscious and close to death... I knew something fishy was going on, because why the hell would a man in extremely expensive but extremely thin clothes wander around the forest in the middle of the night out of his own volition, right? But I still took you in. You didn't ask me for help, I was the one who chose to give it. Since then, you've been insisting that you should leave as soon as possible so that you wouldn't inconvenience me, and each time I had to persuade you to stay. The whole time, you've been doing your best to keep me out of your problems, so don't blame yourself. It was my decision to keep you here, not yours. And either way, it doesn't matter now how we got to this point, only that we are here."

Richard looked up at him. Really, how could he ever think that Paul would abandon him? Paul wasn't quite sure why he was so overly protective of Richard, but he was. Maybe after saving his life, he felt somehow responsible for the man? Or maybe it had to do with how sad and vulnerable Richard often looked. Paul was a calm person, but every time he thought about what Richard had to go through, what the people around him made him go through, it was making him see red. He, someone who prided himself on always trying to solve things peacefully and with a smile, would willingly march into the castle and fight every single person who had ever hurt him. He just wanted Richard to be safe and happy, whatever it took.

"So... what do you think I should do now?" Richard asked.

"Go to bed, preferably. Tomorrow, we can go to the city and try to gather some more information. That might help us decide what to do next. Okay?"

"We? You want me to go with you?"

"I don't think it would be wise to leave you on your own here, even if for a while. You said you hadn't been visiting the city much, right? No one is going to recognise you, especially not if you wear these clothes. You can even put on a hood and hide your face if it will make you feel safer. But the common folk, they don't know what you look like, except for some vague descriptions."

"What vague descriptions?"

Paul waved his hand. "Oh, the classic stuff. Dark hair, blue eyes, black clothes, mysterious and stunningly handsome."

Richard smirked. "Well, my people may not know much about me, but at least they think I'm good looking. Always good to know."

Good looking doesn't even begin to cover it, Paul thought. What he really said was, "You know people, they often only care about what someone looks like and not what they're like. Which is a pity, they should know their prince is a much kinder person than their current queen could ever aspire to be."

"Oh come on," Richard murmured awkwardly.

"I think you'd make a great king, the people would like you," Paul said with a smile. "Anyway, do you agree with my plan? Should we go to the city tomorrow?"

Richard still didn't seem entirely conviced by Paul's arguments, but he nodded. "Alright."

*

_It was summer. The birds were singing, bees buzzing and the air was filled with the sweet smell of flowers. The sun shone bright, but not quite as bright as the smile of the man standing in front of Richard._

_"I like this place, it's so peaceful... And I don't think I've seen so many different kinds of flowers in one place before."_

_"It's nice here, yeah. Speaking of the flowers, some of them don't grow anywhere else, my mother had her magicians create them only for her. That's why there's so many kinds."_

_"Really? That's not fair," Paul said with a joking pout, "now I want to be a royal. I want my own huge garden with magical flowers!"_

_Richard laughed. "You might not be a royal, but I am. I can get you as many gardens as you want."_

_"What if I wanted a thousand gardens?"_

_"Then I'd get you a thousand."_

_"It pays off to befriend a prince, I see," Paul grinned.  "I don't need a thousand gardens though, I'm not that greedy. But... do you think I could pick one of those flowers over there? Just one?"_

_Richard smiled at him fondly. "You're really fascinated by them, aren't you? Of course you can, go on."_

_To Richard's surprise, Paul didn't choose any of the queen's special flowers; instead, he reached down for one of the carnations that grew all around the garden. Perhaps they were his favourite?_

_Paul turned his gaze back to Richard. With a satisfied smile, he stretched out his hand towards him, offering him the flower._

_Richard's eyes kept darting between Paul's face and his hand before he accepted the carnation. "Um... What am I supposed to do with it?"_

_Paul rolled his eyes. "What a romantic soul you are. Do you know what that is?"_

_"A flower," Richard said, growing more confused by the second. Where was Paul going with this?_

_"Yeah, but what kind."_

_"Uh, a carnation."_

_"A blue carnation," Paul corrected him._

_"Oh. Okay," Richard said slowly. "I think I'm still missing the point here."_

_"When someone gives you a blue carnation, you're supposed to thank them."_

_"Well... Thank you then."_

_Paul shook his head. "With a kiss."_

_Richard stared. Then he stared some more. Did Paul just say...?_

_"So?" Watching Richard intently, Paul lifted his hand and lightly ran over Richard's cheek with his fingers. He leaned in so that their faces were mere inches apart and waited, smiling softly at Richard,_

_Richard's breath caught in his throat and his heart was racing. He was about to close the distance between them when a crackling noise interrupted him. The leaves of the nearest tree rustled as a man, dressed all in black, stepped out from behind its trunk. It all happened so quickly Richard didn't get a chance to react. The man's movements were fast and calculated as he approached Paul and plunged a dagger into his neck._

_"The queen sends her regards," he whispered into Richard's ear before stabbing him right in his heart._

_*_

Perhaps he should have been grateful for not having any friends growing up, because if getting close to someone meant feeling like your heart was about to shatter into millions of pieces when you imagined losing them, Richard wasn't sure it was worth the pain.

Miraculously, Paul hadn't woken up yet as he always did when Richard was troubled by his nightmares. He was sound asleep in Richard's arms and Richard couldn't decide if he was glad or not. He yearned to be comforted by Paul, to hear him whisper sleepily that Richard had nothing to worry about and everything was going to be okay, to feel his hands gently tracing patterns on his back, to snuggle up to him and talk to him until they were both asleep again. On the other hand, Richard wasn't sure he could handle talking to Paul in his current state. The dream was still too vivid in his mind and he was afraid hearing Paul's voice would only add to his panic and make Richard hate himself even more for putting his life in danger.

His nightmares had always left him feeling frightened and disoriented, but this time was different. He wouldn't be able to name all the emotions he was currently flooded with but they were driving him insane and he felt as if he was about to explode.

In that moment, a realisation came to him  - he couldn't bear to stay around Paul any longer else the guilt would destroy him. Maybe Paul really could sense incoming danger and maybe it would be wiser and safer for Richard to remain by his side, but well, Richard had never considered himself to be a particularly wise man. He was driven more by his heart than by his brain and right now, his heart was telling him he had to keep Paul from harm even if it meant never seeing him again.

 _Tomorrow,_ he decided. _I'll walk with him to the city, but then I'll wait for the right moment and run away._ He knew Paul would never leave him voluntarily, so he had to get away without him noticing. And without saying goodbye, Richard realised with a pang of regret. But he had to do what he had to do.

He glanced at Paul, unable to tear his eyes away for a while. Paul looked so peaceful and innocent in his sleep and Richard's mind drifted back to the beginning of his dream where they were standing in the garden together, talking and smiling at each other and not worrying about anything. He wondered how Paul would react if Richard told him about the almost-kiss; he supposed he'd probably laugh it off as he did with most things.

What if he wouldn't, though? What if he just smirked and actually dared Richard to kiss him? And what would it be like if Richard did?

Richard sighed. There was no point in imagining things that weren't going to happen anyway, he'd do better to stop thinking and try to fall asleep again. Not sure what possessed him to do it, he hugged Paul tighter and pressed a soft kiss into his hair.

Then, he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw if you find any mistakes, don't be afraid to tell me! I know my English isn't always perfect...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all your lovely comments! <3

Paul was used to Richard not being the most cheerful person in the world, but today, he seemed even more down than usual. Since they got up, he barely spoke and his eyes were fixed on the ground for the most part. Paul supposed it was all related to the queen discovering Richard was still alive, thus making him feel even more threatened. He had been trying his best to be encouraging and brighten up his mood, but to no avail.

They were currently standing by Flake's stand, intending to find out whether the merchant had any interesting news to share. "So, Flake... What's the latest gossip?" Paul asked nonchalantly.

Flake rolled his eyes. "You know I don't care about gossip."

"Yeah, but you still get to hear plenty of it. Tell me," Paul lowered his voice, "do you think the prince is really still alive?"

Flake let out a sigh. "For god's sake Paul, this is like the fourth time you're asking me about that guy. Are you planning to become the royal chronicler or what?"

"Maybe," Paul grinned. "Or maybe I'm a spy working for another kingdom."

"A spy. You." Flake snorted. "Oh please, you couldn't keep a secret to save your life. Anyway... I'm not sure what's going on with the prince, but apparently the queen has sent her most trusted people to go looking for him across the kingdom."

"Across the kingdom? Sounds like she doesn't have a clue where he's supposed to be, huh?"

Flake shrugged. "I don't know, I'm not the queen's most trusted people. But the question is, why would she arrange Richard's funeral without having proof he was actually dead? We were all made to believe his body was in the coffin, but if she's looking for him now... That means she's keeping things from us."

"She's a bitch," Richard muttered under his breath. Paul internally rolled his eyes and gave him a light poke in the ribs, hoping Richard would be smart enough not to blow his cover.

However quiet Richard's words were, Flake had apparently heard them all the same. "Well, Paul... I take it your friend here is not really a friend of the monarchy."

The irony of that statement made Paul laugh. "You're right, he just hates those bastards. Sometimes I worry he's going to start a revolution and try to blow up the castle or something."

The look Richard gave him was the opposite of amused. Paul just winked at him in response.

Flake shook his head. "A revolution wouldn't change a thing. It doesn't really matter who'd end up being in charge, these nobles are all the same."

"What do you know... Maybe the prince will come back to remove his mother from the throne and he'll turn out to be the good and righteous ruler we've all been waiting for," Paul said with a small smile.

"No seriously, what is it with your obsession with the prince? I'm starting to think that either you have a secret affair with him or you two are really planning to blow the castle up."

"Both actually," Paul said, trying to sound serious. "I used to have an affair with him, but then I found out he was cheating on me with some serving girls and now I'm planning to assassinate his mother to take revenge on him."

"He's lying," Richard said, "he was the one cheating."

"How would that make any sense, you smartarse? Why would I want to take revenge if I was the one who cheated on him?"

"After he caught you and broke up with you, you realised you'd never find anyone like him again and now you're mad with grief and you don't know what you're doing."

Flake, who didn't seem too impressed with their exchange, cleared his throat. "Are you two jesters going to buy anything or have you just come to annoy me?"

To be honest, for a moment Paul almost forgot about Flake, as well as about anyone or anything else in the world except for Richard. He turned his attention back to the merchant and smiled, "We just wanted to talk to you."

"Well then go talk to someone else please, I am trying to run a business here."

"As you wish."  Paul made a small comical bow and gestured to Richard that they should take their leave.

Before Flake, they had spoken to several other citizens and merchants, but none were able to give them any useful information. When Paul glanced at Richard, it was impossible to miss the dark circles under his eyes and his blank expression. He had to be tired, and frankly speaking, so was Paul. It would only do them good to take a break and try to unwind for a while.

"Reesh? There's a tavern nearby, how about we go grab a beer and something to eat?"

"Alright," Richard nodded absent-mindedly.

Paul sighed. "Hey, is something wrong? You've been acting strange today."

"Strange? Me? How?"

"You're quiet, you seem lost in thought and you won't look me in the eye. When you smile, it's forced. Is it because we're so close to the castle, or...? From what we've heard so far, the queen seems to have no idea where you are and if the mirror hasn't told her by now, it's quite likely it won't tell her in the future either. You don't have to be so worried." Hesitantly, Paul reached for his hand, but as soon as his fingers brushed Richard's skin, Richard flinched and turned away. He didn't reply.

"Richard... Talk to me, please," Paul said quietly. There was nothing unusual about Richard being in a grim mood, but Paul felt that there was something different about it today, although he couldn't explain why.

"I... I need to be on my own for a moment. It's not that I don't like being around you, I just... just give me a while, please. Can we meet at the tavern in, let's say, twenty minutes?"

Paul couldn't stop the suspicion from creeping into his mind. He didn't want to leave Richard alone, but if that was what Richard wanted, he had no right to say no to him. These past weeks they had been spending nearly all their time together and it made sense that Richard needed a bit of privacy. Paul would have to trust him. "Alright… You won't do anything stupid, will you?"

Richard shook his head. "No."

"And you will be careful, right?"

Richard gave him a long look. It was maddening; in most cases, Richard couldn't hide his emotions too well, at least not from Paul, but now Paul couldn't read anything from his expression. Was it a flicker of sadness that he just saw? Or regret? Longing? He didn't know.

"Yes, of course," Richard finally replied, turning his back to Paul. For a few seconds he just stood there indecisively, then he set a quick pace and let his legs carry him away.

"No really, be careful, please," Paul shouted at him again. Maybe he was being pathetic, but he didn't care; his gut was telling him something wasn't right and the irrational fear that something might happen to Richard kept growing.

Richard didn't answer him.

*

How long had he been quietly hypnotising the flickering flame of the candle placed on the table in front of him? He couldn't tell, but it had to be more than the twenty minutes Richard was supposed to show up within. Perhaps even more than thirty. He cursed under his breath and emptied what mead was left in his mug. Should he wait some more? Or would it be wiser to get out of this place and start looking for Richard?

Wiser or not, Paul was getting tired of idly sitting on his butt when Richard might have possibly got himself in danger. The decision was made. He stood up from the table, swiftly crossing the room and stopping at the counter. The innkeeper was currently busy arguing with an old drunk man who insisted his beer had a strange colour and demanded he get his money back. Once the dispute was settled and the man began to walk away while mumbling something angrily, the innkeeper's attention turned to Paul. "And what can I do for you, mate?"

"I've been waiting for someone but he hasn't showed up and I wanted to ask if you maybe haven't seen him around? Black hair, black clothes, about my age, taller than me."

"Ain't that difficult being taller than you, buddy. But yeah, he was here a while ago and he left a message for a friend, so I suppose that's you? But just to make sure, I'd like to know your name, he didn't want it to get into the wrong hands."

A message? That wasn't good. Better than having Richard vanish without a trace, of course, but it still indicated that he wasn't going to arrive to meet Paul in person. "My name is Paul."

The innkeeper nodded and handed him a piece of paper covered with neat handwriting. "Here you are then. Don't worry, I haven't read it, got no idea what all these fancy scribbles mean. Never went to school, you know?"

"Thank you," Paul said. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't pay the bartender for his services. Richard had most likely already done that and considering his wealth - he had lost access to most of it, but even with the few golden coins in his pockets he could still buy half the city - his tips had to be much more generous than anything Paul could offer. In spite of that he eventually decided to place some small coins on the counter before departing. Otherwise, he'd feel like an ungrateful prick.

As soon as the door of the tavern closed behind him, he took a proper look at the message and started to read.

_My dear friend_ _,_

_I am sorry, but I simply couldn't take it anymore. How am I supposed to wake up every day with the knowledge that I am being followed and that if the queen's people get to me, you will have to pay for it as much as me?_

_You have no idea how thankful I am for everything you have done for me, but it is time to go. I wish I could have said goodbye properly, but I knew that if I were to share my intentions with you, you would manage to find a way to stop me. You can be very convincing, do you know that? You have this strange ability to always make me believe whatever you're saying, it's almost like magic. I could be staring right at the bluest brightest sky, but if you came to me with one of your big smiles and told me it was actually red, I would believe you. It's insane._

_I hope this doesn't sound weird, but… I'll miss you. A lot. A part of me already regrets leaving you as I am writing this, but it is what I have to do. You have saved me and done your best to protect me; now it is my turn to protect you._

_I have to meet my mother and end this once and for all, it is the only way I can get rid of this constant fear and of her presence haunting me in my dreams. I doubt she'll want to make peace, so it's possible at least one of us won't survive the encounter. But I will be careful. If any blood must be shed, I will make sure it is not mine._

_Please, don't try to find me. If everything goes well, I will seek you out at as soon as I can, I promise._

_Until then, goodbye… And take care, please._

_-R._

"Richard, you idiot," Paul groaned, folded the letter and shoved it in his pocket. God, what was Richard thinking? Seeking out the queen on his own was probably the dumbest thing he could do right now, why couldn’t he have consulted his decision with Paul? Right, because he was stubborn as hell.

Paul wondered if Richard actually believed that Paul would just read the message, accept the prince was gone with a shrug and return back to the forest. "Of course I'm going to find you, you pigheaded fool," Paul muttered, contemplating his next steps. He could try to speak to the innkeeper again to make sure he didn't know more than he let on and then he could ask around to see if perhaps someone in the city hadn't noticed which way Richard had gone.

It wouldn't be easy, of that Paul was certain, but he refused to let Richard's worst nightmares come true. With a long sigh, he turned back to the tavern's entrance.


	6. Chapter 6

Richard's feet were leading him down the slope towards the lower part of the city, the area of the poor and the wretched. The air was heavy with the smell of sickness and sweat and piss, twisting Richard's face into a disgusted grimace. The shanties around him were falling to pieces, some had holes in their roofs or broken windows and some could hardly be called buildings at all. No matter how ramshackle they were, some of the citizens apparently could not afford living in them anyway, judging from the number of beggars sleeping in the streets.

Until now, Richard had only heard stories of the place, never having witnessed its terrors with his own eyes. He was almost beginning to regret his decision to enter the district, but at the same time he felt it was the right thing to do. He was the prince, he was supposed to be there for his people and see how they lived. Back when the kingdom was still young, it was believed that kings and queens were supposed to serve the land and ensure the safety and happiness of their people, but now? Now the monarchs did nothing but hoard riches and live in luxury to the detriment of the poorest. Although Richard wasn't sure he could be quite like the brave and selfless rulers from the stories of the old times if he ever became king, he would still consider it his duty to try to improve the lives of his people instead of making them suffer for his own benefit and enjoyment. He was aware of his many flaws, but unlike his mother, he at least knew compassion and had a heart.

Come tomorrow, he would either die or retrieve his position and his title. One way or the other he wouldn't be needing what little money he had on him now, so whenever he passed a person begging him for something they could buy food for, or even simply lying in the street and staring at him with desperate eyes, he threw a coin or two at their feet. The people were giving him strange looks, Richard supposed they weren't used to meeting many wealthy citizens around here. _Have none of the other nobles ever come here? Did they not care at all what was happening behind the walls of their giant mansions?_ Richard wondered.

Before he left the centre of the city, he'd done some more shopping and got himself a warmer coat and two daggers. He needed some weapons to defend himself with and while the daggers didn't look quite as impressive as some of the other pieces the merchant had to offer, such as longswords and rapiers and axes, they weighed less and were easier to hide and handle. In addition to that, he had bought some paper and ink with the intention to write down two messages, one for the queen and the other for Paul. The first one was very short and blunt as he felt no need to waste more ink on his mother than necessary; he gave her a time and place and asked her to meet him there and talk to him, alone and unarmed. He of course did not expect her to meet his conditions, but he at least had to try.

Then, Richard had approached a trustworthy looking merchant, asked him to deliver the letter to the castle guard and tell them it was addressed to the queen. Richard had of course traded several nice shiny silver coins for his help and silence; judging from his stunned expression, the merchant had never held so much money in his hands before. The second message he had entrusted to the innkeeper whom he paid well also. Richard's heart had grown heavy as the man had taken the message from his hand. He hoped it wouldn't anger Paul too much, although he had difficulties imagining kind-hearted and always smiling Paul getting angry with him. No, he would more likely feel sad and betrayed, maybe he'd even think Richard didn't trust him enough to share his plan with him.

Richard sighed. He wished he could have explained himself better, but he didn't have enough time to think everything through. Then again, maybe it was better the circumstances had forced him to keep the note short, god knows what embarrassing things he would say if he got too personal.

He shook his head and pushed the thoughts of Paul away. What an interesting thing – he was meeting his mother tomorrow and yet instead of dreading that possibly fatal moment here he was wondering whether Paul hated him or not. Ridiculous, wasn't it?

He stopped at one of the houses that, compared to the rest, seemed quite habitable. He knocked on the door and waited.

Soon, the door creaked loudly as a tall and muscular man with tired eyes opened it. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

Richard cleared his throat. "I am looking for a place where I could stay overnight. I can pay very well."

The man was eyeing him with suspicion. Richard wouldn't expect anything else, he knew he was too clean, well-dressed and healthy looking to be considered a local. He quickly added, "I'll pay even more if you don't ask me any questions."

He fished out what money he had left on him and handed it to the man who first gaped at the money, then at Richard's face and then back at the money. He probably thought Richard was mad if he was willing to exchange such a fortune for one night in a house like his, but then he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and take what was being so generously offered to him. "But I'll have to warn you, I have five little daughters who can get pretty loud. And the place is a mess,  I haven't had the time to clean up or cook anything proper. The best I can offer you for dinner is some bread."

He looked at Richard as if he was half expecting him to change his mind, but the prince nodded. "That's alright. What's your name?"

"Till. Yours?"

"I'm… Sven." Richard didn't want to risk Till realising who his guest really was; not that he thought Till would rat him out, he wouldn't even have the time to do that before tomorrow, but he was in no mood to explain why and how he got here. Another reason was that he entered this district to see how his people lived and to try out what it was like being one of them, even if for a while. He could hardly do that if his host knew the man standing in front of him was a fugitive prince.

Till, who could probably tell Richard hadn't shared his real name, raised his eyebrow slightly. He moved away from the door so that Richard could walk in. "Well then... Nice to meet you, Sven. Please welcome to my humble home."

And humble it was, indeed. The wasn't much else but several old beds covered with thin blankets, a small round table and dusty cupboards that had definitely seen better days. When Richard looked up, he noticed the cobwebs that had gathered in the corners. He didn't blame Till for failing to keep the place neat and clean though, if the man had to raise five daughters on his own, it made sense he did not have much time left for such things.

"Girls, we're having a visitor tonight!" Till announced. "Be nice, okay?"

Judging from the little girls' surprised faces, they weren't used to visitors, but they were all polite enough to greet him with a "Good evening", some gaping at him with eyes wide open and some looking at the ground shyly.

"Hello," Richard replied with an awkward smile and turned back to Till, who had just closed the door behind them. "Um, so... Where can I sleep?"

Till pointed at one of the beds located in the corner of the room. "But before you go to bed, come have dinner with us."

Richard didn't feel like arguing with someone whose shoulders were so wide Richard was almost surprised he fit in the door, and besides, he could use something to eat. He nodded.

Along with Till's daughters, he took a seat at the kitchen table while Till was serving the food. Richard was watching his hands, attempting to ignore the fact that two of the girls wouldn't stop staring at him. He had nothing against children, he only wasn't too good at dealing with them, considering he had never had to take care of his own. Not even for any younger siblings, seeing as he was the only child. Sometimes he was unsure of how to deal with adults, let alone children, whose minds posed an even greater mystery to him.

Finally Till joined them at the table and they could all start eating. He and Till only had two pieces of bread with cheese on their plates, while the girls also received some soup. As Richard took his first bite, one of the girls got off her chair and hopped over to him. Richard gave her a confused look.

"You are pretty. Like a prince," she said.

Well if that wasn't a funny thing to say to him. Left at a loss how else to react, Richard smiled and thanked her. He wished Paul was there, he seemed to be the type who was amazing with kids. Well, of course he would be amazing with kids, he was amazing with everyone regardless of age, Richard thought fondly. However, his smiled vanished in a second.

The girl noticed. "Why are you sad?"

"I... I am not. It's nothing."

"Yes you are!" Nele insisted.

Richard sighed. It seemed the litte girl wouldn't budge. "I… miss someone," he said eventually. It wasn't the whole truth, but he did wish Paul could be there with him.

"A girl?"

Richard shook his head, "A boy."

"You like boys? Me too," she nodded with a serious expression on her cute little face. "Is he as pretty as you are?"

Richard gave her a small smile. "He's prettier than me."

"Really?" Nele appeared to be so surprised by his answer it almost made Richard laugh. "Does he also have dark hair and blue eyes?"

"His hair is lighter than mine. And his eyes… They're like the ocean, you know. You stare at it and sometimes the water appears green, sometimes blue with gleams of silver, a moment later it seemingly has no colour and then suddenly there's all the colours in the world. But in the end, the exact shade doesn't really matter; all that matters is how beautiful and fascinating those waves are and how you could spend forever wondering about what's hidden behind the surface."

Richard noticed that Till had been watching their exchange with mild amusement. Embarrassed, Richard looked away from him and his daughter and decided to focus on his food. Nele probably sensed she wouldn't get any more interesting information out of him, so she sighed and returned to her place at the table.

Once he was finished with his food, Richard quietly thanked Till and moved to his bed. He wondered if he would get any sleep at all tonight, he definitely needed it but he wasn't sure if he could keep his mind from panicking about what tomorrow had in store for him. And from Paul. He could almost hear his voice now, _What the hell Reesh, are you out of your mind? The queen won't stop from anything and I'm sure she has already come up with a detailed plan on how to get rid of you.  Meanwhile your plan is what, telling her she's been a bad mother and hoping those two daggers you can't even use will protect you? She is the most powerful person in the whole kingdom with hundreds of soldiers and magicians serving her… How naïve can you be?_

Richard's stomach churned. He'd known from the start he was in grave danger, but only now it was really beginning to sink in. He was going to die without having had the chance to accomplish anything, to show the world he wasn't completely useless. His people didn't care about him, it couldn't matter less to them whether he was dead or alive. Soon, he'd be forgotten, just one of the many names written in a small font in a fat history book. He was born a nothing and would die a nothing, too.

He closed his eyes which were starting to burn unpleasantly and decided he would at least try to fall asleep, although his chances to get actual proper sleep were slim to none. He covered himself with a blanket, imagining Paul was there with him, lying by his side, his breath tickling Richard's neck.

 _It will be okay, Reesh. I believe in you,_ he would whisper in his ear, pull him in a tight embrace and make him feel like nothing could possibly go wrong.

*

Paul hadn’t passed any mirrors recently, for which he was grateful. He could only imagine how terrible he had to look right now what with the messy hair, tired red eyes with dark bags under them and all the other signs showing he had spent the last night doing anything but sleeping - namely worrying, roaming the city and bothering everyone he ran into with numerous questions, as  long as they were willing to listen to his rambling. He talked to tens of people, pleaded with them to try to recall if they hadn’t met a man fitting Richard's description and if they had any idea where he might have gone.

It was early morning when he reached Till's place. He knocked on the door, praying to every god he could remember that Richard was still in there. He didn't have any other leads, his head hurt like hell and his mood kept dropping with each passing minute.

"Oh, hello Paul," Till greeted him, "wasn't expecting you. What can I do for you?"

Till was Flake's best and oldest friend, which was how Paul got to meet him, too. While they didn't know each other that well, there was mutual respect between them and Paul considered Till a friend. It was impossible not to like Till; in spite of his size and overall appearance, Till was a kind man who spoke in a soft voice and wouldn't hurt a fly.

Paul flashed a tired smile. "I'm looking for a friend, some of the local people informed me they've seen him come to your house. So, is he here?"

All Till did for a moment was watch Paul quietly, as if pondering whether he should be honest with him or not. "Did something happen?" he asked tentatively in place of giving Paul a proper reply.

Paul sighed; he didn't have time for this rubbish. "Yes, something happened. He's in danger and I've spent the past I don't know how many hours trying to find him and… Let me guess, he's been giving you sad looks and acting all mysterious and you feel like maybe you shouldn't give him away, but I'm on his side, okay? I care about him and I'm here to help him."

Till gave up. "Alright, alright… I did have a visitor, I guess he's the guy you're speaking about, but he already left."

Of course he left. Of course things couldn't be easy for once. "When? Where did he go? Did he tell you anything?"

"It hasn't been long, maybe half an hour? He woke up quite early, I think he was having bad dreams, he kept rolling over and mumbling something in his sleep and when he crawled out of the bed, he was so pale I was worried he'd throw up or something. He didn't share anything about his plans with me, but I saw him walk away in this direction," Till pointed at the path leading out of the district. "That's all I know. Anyway, how the hell did you end up getting yourself a friend like that?"

"What do you mean, a friend like that?"

"That man is loaded! He gave me two golden coins like it was nothing, I've never seen anything like that before in my life! I'm still finding it hard to believe it wasn't just a dream, to be honest."

Paul let out a short laugh. "Yes, well, he's from a wealthy family. And it's a long story, I'll tell you some other time."

Till nodded. Suddenly his expression changed, as if something important had just crossed his mind. "Wait. Are you two…?"

"We're friends." Who like to cuddle during long nights and stare into each other's eyes for suspiciously long amounts of time, but Till didn't need to know that, did he?

"Oh, okay. So I guess it wasn't you he was talking about."

Paul's brow furrowed with confusion. "What?"

Till waved his hand. "Nothing, just remembered how he was waxing poetic about some guy's eyes. He has it bad, I'll tell you that."

Paul blinked. Now that was something he would definitely love to hear more about, but unfortunately he couldn't afford to lose any more precious time to idle chit chat. "That's… that's interesting. I really have to go now though. Thank you for your help, you have no idea how much it means to me. See you later, Till."

"See you, Paul."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been having some technical issues etc... My phone died, my wi-fi died... But that should hopefully be solved by now lol. Thank you for your patience and for all the kind comments! <3

Paul was doing his best to ignore the dull ache in his legs as he was running in the direction Till had pointed to. Actually it wasn't that hard for Paul to disregard his body's protests as his mind had been preoccupied with other matters, such as _why couldn't Richard just listen to me_ or _please god let him be alright_ or _I'd give a kidney to find out what the hell he said to Till to make him wonder if we're a couple._

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. No, not something, someone. He held his breath and stepped forward, setting a quick pace so that he wouldn’t lose sight of the other person. It had to be Richard, who else would be walking around this godforsaken place so early in the morning?

It was a man, of that Paul was soon certain, who was dressed in warm dark clothes and looked very, very familiar. "Richard!" Paul shouted.

The man turned around and all of Pauls doubts disappeared. Paul crossed the remaining distance between them until he and Richard were standing face to face once again and now that the moment was finally here, Paul realised he couldn’t think of anything smart to say. Judging from the silence stretching out between them, neither could Richard. They gaped at each other awkwardly, until Paul couldn't take it anymore. "So… Are we just going to stare at each other for the rest of the day?”

Richard threw up his hands in exasperation. "I told you to stay away, Paul, you shouldn’t be here! This is my problem and I have to solve it, alone."

“Your problem? You deciding to get yourself killed is very much my problem, too!"

“I’m not here to get myself killed, and even if I was, it’s still my life and not yours and I can do what I want with it.” Richard folded his arms across his chest, casting a defiant glare at Paul.

Right now, one part of Paul almost wanted to knock some sense into Richard and his pretty but stubborn head. "Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how I felt when I read that message you left me? This is even worse than when you wanted to go to Christoph for help… You can't defeat the queen, not with simple weapons and certainly not with words! Why do you have to be so reckless?"

"I am not!" Richard protested. "I'm just being pragmatic here. And stop raising your voice at me, okay? I get it, you're upset that I ran away without telling you, and I'm sorry for that… But what's done is done and now it's too late to change anything. In a moment, I'll be meeting my mother at the lake and…"

Paul made a face. "And? What exactly do you imagine is the best case scenario here?"

"The best case scenario is that she'll never find out about you," said Richard quietly, refusing to meet Paul's eyes. "As for my fate, well… that's not really important to me. What happens, happens."

"But it is important to me! You are important to me," Paul added softly voice and reached out to take Richard's hands in his. A voice in the back of his mind kept compelling Paul to do something, but Paul wasn't sure what exactly that something should be. It was one of those moments that seemed to grind on forever, as if a greater force had decided to slow down the time only to give Paul a chance to carefully consider his next steps. He could use all his strength to drag Richard away from there, but that would only be a temporary solution, because Richard would eventually leave him again anyway. Or maybe he could once again try to appeal to Richard's reason and try to make him understand how the thought of never being able to see him again was breaking Paul's heart and that they could escape the kingdom together and hide someplace so far away that no one would ever be able to find them.

Or maybe he should just stop making up all these grand romantic happy endings, accept the fact that Richard might not live to see tomorrow and say goodbye to him. But what was one supposed to say in a situation like that? _Bye Richard, it was nice knowing you even though I'm kind of upset with you right now but mostly I'm mad at your mother and at the whole universe and at myself, for letting myself have feelings for you, but none of that matters anymore, does it? Because there seems to be no way out of this fucking mess and god, I'll fucking miss you?_

Even the longest of moments has to pass eventually, and so did this one, before Paul could decide what to do. “Fuck, looks like she’s here, you need to hide,” Richard cursed, hauled Paul to the bushes growing nearby and gestured him to crouch down. “Stay here, don’t move and don’t make a sound.”

“I want to go there with you.”

“No! That would only make everything worse. Wait for me here, I’ll be fine, I promise,” Richard assured Paul, gave one of his hands a small squeeze and let go of him.

Paul nodded reluctantly. He pulled a knife out of his pocked and watched Richard's retreating form. If things went wrong – which, let's be honest, was a very real possibility – Paul was ready to step in and do whatever was necessary to keep Richard from harm. If that meant fighting the most powerful person in the land with an old rusty knife, so be it. In the end, she was just a bitter middle-aged woman with a screw loose, he and Richard should be able to handle her, right?

Down at the lake, Richard and his mother were already facing each other with unreadable expressions.

"Hello Richard, how nice to see you again," the queen smirked, way too confidently for Paul's liking. Even outside her castle and with no crown on her head, there was something about her screaming 'queen'. Whether it was her straight posture, sharp gaze or proud smile, Paul didn't know. However, he could see the likeness between her and her son right away – the same dark hair, blue eyes full of determination… And Paul hated to admit it to himself, but the queen was undeniably a beautiful woman, although only on the outside. In spite of her looks, she was a heartless monster who hurt Richard probably more times than he could count and nearly got him murdered, too. Paul shivered.

Richard, whose eyes were darting from left to right anxiously, did not greet his mother in return.

 “Are you looking for something?” she asked him, visibly amused.

“Yes. For your people.”

She raised arched her eyebrow. “My people? In your lovely message, you asked me to arrive here alone, didn’t you?”

“I did, but I don’t trust you.”

The queen's laughter sent chills down Paul's spine. “So you think I brought my guards with me? But why would I do that? I am not afraid of you, child. Actually, this morning I asked my mirror how this meeting of ours would go… and you know what it told me?”

“How would I know?” Richard was trying to feign apathy, but Paul could hear the slight tremor in his voice. This wasn’t good. Whatever news the queen had received, it had apparently pleased her.

She took several long steps towards Richard, stopping right in front of him with a wicked smile on her face. It was incredible how she could look both so attractive and so repulsive, Paul thought. “It said that even if you wanted to, you couldn’t hurt me. Not today. I’m not stupid, I know you brought weapons with you, but I also know you’re too much of a coward to use them.”

Richard’s eyes went wide. Paul gripped the handle of his knife tighter, still unable to grasp how someone could treat their own blood with such disrespect and scorn. He didn’t think she was bluffing, she looked too confident for that. Richard, on the other hand…

Truth be told, ever since the moment Paul got his hands on the letter Richard had written for him, he had had doubts if Richard truly could harm the queen. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in Richard, he simply couldn’t imagine him hurting anybody. The prince wouldn’t admit it, but Paul knew he was a sensitive person who would hate to have blood on his hands. Once when Paul found a dying boar in the forest and decided to pull it out of its misery, Richard had to look away and cover his ears. How was he expecting to be capable of killing a human being?

“But… the mirror… do you not remember the first thing it told you about me?” Richard reminded her, grasping at straws.

“Oh, the prophecy? I’m starting to think I misunderstood it. You see, it said you would be the cause of my demise, but what do I know, it might as well be indirect. Maybe one day I’ll feel so ashamed about bringing someone like you to life that I’ll kill myself.“ She raised her hand and placed it on Richard’s cheek. The gesture, which would normally appear to be nothing but a mother’s gentle touch, seemed mocking and twisted in this case. Paul wouldn’t have believed himself to be capable of hating someone as much as he hated this woman right now. It took him every ounce of self-control not to rush to her, blow a punch in her face and comfort Richard by telling him wonderful and important he is in Paul's eyes.

Richard, staring at his mother with raw pain in his eyes, was too distracted to notice her other hand disappearing under the thick fabric of her coat and, shortly thereafter, reemerging with her fingers wrapped around something small and golden. Because of the distance and the bad angle of sight, Paul couldn't say with certainty if it was the poisoned comb or not; either way it clearly had to be a weapon which she was going to use on Richard. And Richard had no clue.

Without thinking, Paul lunged forward. The noise startled the queen and made her turn around, but not in time to prevent Paul from tackling her to the ground. In an attempt to defend herself, her palms opened and the weapon flew out of her hand.

As the queen was yelling at Paul and trying to shake him off, Richard picked up the comb and said loudly, “Well, looks like today isn’t your lucky day after all, mother. You’re alone and there’s two of us, which doesn’t bode too well for you. Surrender and I’ll spare your life.”

Ignoring everything her son said, the queen asked Paul, “Who the hell are you? A mercenary crazy enough to attack me? Well, I have to say you don’t look like a mercenary at all, but I suppose you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“I am not a mercenary. I am Richard's friend."

The queen began to laugh. “Oh god, as if this half-wit could ever make a friend!"

“But I _am_ his friend,” Paul gritted through his teeth, “and I am here because I couldn’t stand anything happening to him. Actually I’m glad I finally got to meet you, because there’s a lot of things I’d like to tell you. Most importantly - fuck you. Fuck you for being an evil abusive bitch who made Richard’s life hell… and not only his life, there’s thousands other people who live in terrible conditions under your rule because you don’t care about anyone but yourself! But what you’ve done to Reesh, that’s just… many people agree a mother’s love is the strongest there can be. It’s natural and it’s logical because while everyone needs love and support, children do most of all. They’re innocent and confused and need someone who will protect them and prepare them for life, but all you did was humiliate and attack your son whenever an opportunity presented itself. You wanted him to become your punching bag, someone you could blame for all that went wrong in your life. You thought you could break him and turn him too weak to ever be able to defy you, but guess what? You failed. Richard is possibly the strongest person I know, he's been through so much and yet he's still here, voluntarily standing up to someone who wants him dead. He is brave and caring and overall and amazing person and it pisses me off that he never had a mother who could appreciate that and love him for who he is. You disgust me."

Paul could feel Richard’s eyes on him, but he did not move his gaze from the queen. Pinned to the ground under him, she had stopped fighting back after realising Paul was stronger than her. Now she was only watching him, her face void of emotion. Paul hadn’t expected her to start defending herself and he didn’t mind when she indeed chose not to react to his words. He of course did not believe he would change her mind about Richard so easily, but he needed to get this out of his chest. He needed the queen to know that there was someone in this world who actually cared about Richard.

Now, the queen’s eyes shifted to Richard. “What a cute little speech, did you write it down beforehand and pay this boy extra to make him pretend he’s in love with you?"

Richard didn't say anything. Paul wished he knew what was going through Richard's head, wished he could at least see his face, but he did not dare to look away from the queen. In this situation, one second of inattentiveness could be fatal.

The queen smirked. "Doesn't matter. Don't you think this is a beautiful summer day?"

"What?" Richard asked, confused. "But it isn't-"

Instead of any more words, a surprised noise was all that escaped his lips. Paul chanced a quick glance behind and froze. Richard was surrounded by four armed heavily-built men who had emerged out of thin air. It had to be a magic spell that had been triggered by the queen's words.

Deciding the queen was no longer the biggest threat for Richard in this particular moment, Paul let her go and with all his strength, hit one of the men in his temple with the handle of his knife. The man fell down to his knees instantly. However, Paul was aware this small victory was only the result of him using the element of surprise in his advance. How he and Richard would deal with the other three fighters, he had no idea.

One of the men drew his sword and attacked Richard, who thankfully parried the blow with his dagger in time. The other two queen's men approached Paul, both holding axes in their hands. Paul swallowed. There was no way he could block them with his pathetic little knife, his only chance was to play dirty.

However, in the following seconds, he was too busy avoiding the two axes to be able to come up with any brilliant life-saving plans. He didn't even have time to be afraid, all he focused on was the fact that there were two sharp heavy object cutting the air near his head and that he should do everything in his power to make sure they wouldn't detach his head from his neck.

To evade another blow, he had to duck and roll aside, almost bumping into a nearby tree. Maybe if he stood up now, let one of the brutes try to hit him and managed to get away quickly enough, the axe would get stuck in the trunk. While its owner would be attempting to extract it, Paul could strike again. It probably could be a good idea if he only had one opponent, but what was he going to do with two? Even if he managed to distract one man, his colleague was still there, ready to kill. And Paul knew he couldn't keep dodging the attacks forever. This did not look well.

As his foe was lifting his axe above his head, Paul moved away once again. He expected the axe to barely miss his face, but in the end, it didn't go anywhere near him. His opponent's eyes widened. At first Paul thought maybe he had seen something frightening behind him, but then the man slowly sank down to the ground.  His gaze was blank and his body unmoving. Only then Paul noticed the arrow in his side.  Paul blinked. What was going on here? He wasn't complaining, of course, but he surely would have noticed Richard bringing a crossbow with him. It wasn't making any sense, but it had to have been someone else who had shot the man.

Another arrow sliced through the air. Another man down. Now there was only the queen and one of her guards left. Paul glanced at Richard. He appeared to be unharmed, with the exception of some minor scratches on his hands and arms. However, he had dropped one of his daggers as well as the comb to the ground and now only had one dagger left to defend himself.

Paul was about to rush to his side and help him, when he saw the queen move. At first he thought she wanted to join the fight and attack Richard, but then she bent down and Paul realised she was picking up her golden comb.

Paul had never run so fast before in his life. In the fraction of a second it took him to cross the distance separating him and the queen, several images went through his mind. All of them were of Richard, how scared he was when he was talking about the queen or right after he woke up from his nightmares. So Paul did the one thing he knew would save Richard from everything he feared – he drove the knife in the queen's neck.


	8. Chapter 8

He pulled his bloodied hand away. The gurgling noises made him wince in disgust. He was taking no pleasure from doing this, but the queen had left him no other choice. Soon, she was lying on the ground next to her guards.

Paul looked up at Richard. The prince’s head was bent down, his face pale. He wasn’t moving or saying anything.

“Reesh? Are you alright?” Paul asked quietly.

Richard shook his head. No wonder, Paul thought. The things he had just had to witness… A scary thought crossed Paul's mind. Could Richard be upset with him for killing the queen? She was his only family, after all, and while he hated her, maybe a part of him now regretted what had happened. “Are you… mad at me?”

Richard’s gaze met his. “What? No, why would I… I’m grateful. The things you said… no one has ever stood up for me like this. Or talked about me like I mattered. I mean… damn, Paul, you’ve actually told the ruler of this entire kingdom to go fuck herself!”

Paul laughed. “I did, didn’t I? I had every right, though. She was a shitty person. But now she’s gone and you don’t have to worry about her and her plots anymore… So why the sad face?”

“Paul…” Richard's speech was interrupted. One of the guards, the one Paul had hit in his head, appeared to be waking up and trying to scramble to his feet again. His eyes flew to Paul and the blood dripping from his knife, then to his dead queen. A shocking realisation dawned on him.

“You killed our queen!” he shouted, stood up on his shaky legs and pointed his sword at Paul.

Richard did not hesitate and suddenly he was standing between the two men. “Don’t even think about that,” he snarled. “Yes, the queen is dead and do you know what that means? It means I’m your king now, you idiot, and I command you to put that sword down. If you as much as touch a hair on Paul's head, I’ll have you executed, do you understand?”

“Y-yes."

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good. Now please be so kind and take care of all these bodies, alright? Then return to the castle and tell everyone the news.”

"What… what exactly should I do with the bodies?"

"My mother needs to be buried in the royal crypt near the castle. As for those men… notice their families and let them decide. And give five golden coins to each family as a compensation for their loss, ask the treasurer for the money."

"Yes, my lord. I… I'll fetch a cart and then I'll be right back," the guard stuttered out.

Once he was out of sight, something rustled in the bushes. Paul was mentally preparing himself to fight off another one of the queen's lackeys, but when he saw the man who had been hidden to his eyes until now, he relaxed. It was Till, approaching them with a crossbow over his shoulder.

"Till!"

"Hello, Paul," said Till and his gaze switched to Richard, "and Sven. Although now I that's not your real name. God, who would have thought that of all the people in the world, Paul would end up befriending a prince? How did that even happen? You need to tell me the whole story some time."

"One day, maybe," said Richard. "You and your little friend there," he pointed at the crossbow, "saved our lives today. I'm in your debt. Once I'm back at my castle and able to rule, I will make sure that you get a nicer house somewhere in the city centre so that you and your daughters can live a better life."

Till bowed his head in respect. "That is very kind of you, sir… Thank you."

"Speaking of the girls," said Paul, "who is with them now? And what are you even doing here?"

"I've followed you here. My gut was telling me that whatever it was you and your friend got involved in, you could probably use some help. And don't worry, the girls are taken care of, Flake is with them."

"Flake? Seriously?"

"What? I know sometimes he seems like a sarcastic prick, but he's my best friend and he's actually good with kids. I trust him." Till paused. "Anyway, now that I've killed those two guys for you, I guess my job here is done. I should get back home."

"Thank you, really. We couldn't have done it without you," said Paul and gave Till a hug. When he released him, Richard stepped forward and shook Till's hand. Till smiled, assured them he was glad to have helped and left them on their own.

Paul turned to Richard. "Okay, we're alone again. Tell me what's wrong."

Richard sighed and said in a grave voice, “Paul… It’s all over.”

“Um… You mean the queen thing? Yes, it's over… Is that a bad thing?”

Richard stretched his arm towards Paul, his palm up. “See this cut? Got it when I was trying to take the comb from one of the guards. The poison is in my blood now and all I can do is wait to die."

No. No, no, no. It couldn’t end now, not like this. Not after they finally got rid of the queen and Richard could be free. "It's… it's quite shallow though, maybe…"

Richard laughed, but the sound was anything but happy. “Doesn’t matter, even the tiniest cut is enough."

Suddenly, an idea came to Paul. “We have to go to Oliver. Now.”

Richard sighed tiredly. “Paul, it’s pointless… I’m a dead man.”

Paul frowned at him. “Don’t say that! As long as you’re breathing, there’s still hope. Oliver is the best healer I’ve ever met, he’ll help you.”

“A healer won’t help me, this is not a normal poison, it’s…”

“It’s magic, I know,” said Paul quickly. “Ollie dabbles in magic, too, he’s one of those people who are good at pretty much everything. I have absolute faith in him, okay? He will know what to do.”

*

“I don’t know,” said Oliver. “I’ve never seen a weapon like this before…” He was carefully holding the comb in his gloved hands and examining it with a thoughtful frown on his face.

“Ollie please, you have to help us,” Paul said with desperation in his voice.

Oliver sighed. “I’ll do all I can, of course. For every poison, there is an antidote. The problem with enchanted poisons is, the cure can be literally anything. It can be a classic antidote as well as some bizarre ritual, like singing one particular song in a particular position while wearing a green hat and yellow socks. And I’m not kidding, I’ve actually seen a case like that.”

“I don’t think I have any green hats,” said Richard. “Or yellow socks.”

Paul ignored him and asked, "How much time do we have?"

Oliver shrugged; it was Richard who replied to his question. "Should be about a week, I think."

"A week. Okay. That's… that's still plenty of time," said Paul, trying to be optimistic as always.

"Not really," said Richard. He wasn't putting too many hopes in Oliver, the only reason he had let Paul take him here was because if was so hard to say no to his pleading eyes. But he should have said no. There were so many things he was supposed to be doing right instead of wasting his last days clinging to false hopes. "Can I leave now? I need to go to the castle before some noble arsehole steals my throne."

Paul shot him a look full of disbelief. "How can you be thinking about your throne in a moment like this?"

Richard made a face. "Moment like what? I've spent the past few months basically waiting for death, this is nothing new. Now that I'm the king, I want to try to fix at least some of my mother's terrible decisions while I still can. And if I don't officially claim the throne as soon as possible, I am sure the noble families will all think they are fit to rule instead of me and start a war or two because of that."

"They won't start a war within the next few days."  And of course this all seemed simple to Paul, he didn't have a clue about politics.

"Wouldn't be so sure about that."

Oliver cleared his throat. "You really should stay here, Your Majesty, you need to rest."

"Or what, I'll die? Oh wait, I'm going to die anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

"It does matter. Any kind of work, mental or physical, is going to worsen your condition. And what we need to do right now is buy you as much time as possible. I'll go through my books and consult my colleagues and I believe we will find a way to help you, but it might take a while. By the way, it's good that you brought the comb with you, it means I'll be able to extract some of the poison and run tests on it. So what I'm trying to say is, I know it's hard, but don't lose hope."

Richard could feel Paul tugging at his sleeve. He gave him a questioning look and then Paul was taking his hand and leading him out of the room. "Ollie will help you, I know he will," said Paul quietly, "but you have to let him."

Richard sighed. "Paul…"

"Please. Do it for me." And here it was again, the gentle voice and those sad puppy eyes that were impossible to refuse.  Damn it.

So of course, Richard relented. "Okay then."

"Thank you." Paul smiled and pulled him in a hug. It felt so nice to have Paul's arms around him, to be able to bury his head in Paul's shoulder and breathe in his scent.

"I missed you," Richard said without thinking and immediately winced in embarrassment. Way to sound clingy, they had only been apart for one night. "I-I mean... I got so used to your presence that if felt strange being at Til's place without you…"

"Yeah well, if you'd told me about your dumb plan, I would have come with you," Paul said, but there was no edge to his words. "Or talked you out of it."

"I know. I'm sorry, Paul."

"It's alright. Doesn't matter now. The queen is dead, we will find a cure for you and then you'll be finally safe. And you'll have the throne. Shit, it's so weird to actually think of you as the king? I mean don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're going to be great at it, just... wow."

"I'll only be a king for a few days anyway, so..."

"Richard. Stop. You'll be fine and you'll be a king for many long and wonderful years, I promise."

Richard laughed. "You don't know that, you can't give promises like that."

"Yes, I can. Because if there's even the tiniest bit of justice in this world, and I know there is, then you can't die this young. You just... you just can't, okay, because that would be..." Paul's voice broke and he had to take a short break before continuing. "You'll be fine, you have to be. You have to be." He was talking to Richard, but he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. And then, a quiet noise left his mouth. A muffled sob. And then another.

Richard blinked in bewilderment. What was he supposed to do now? It had always been the other way, he had been the one freaking out and Paul the one to remain calm and console him. Richard tightened his grip on Paul and whispered, "Hey... You're right, okay? You're right as always. We'll get through this. Even if Oliver doesn't find the cure, I... I don't know, I'll sell my soul to the devil or try out all kind of fucked up rituals that involve green hats and yellow socks or something, anything, just... don't cry, please? Don't cry. It's going to be alright."

Paul sniffed. "Sorry… I just don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Richard reassured him, still holding him tight.

Paul looked up and gave Richard a small, teary smile. "Okay. Thank you."

_I should be the one thanking you; for everything,_ Richard thought, but stayed silent. He only offered Paul a smile in return and wiped away his tears with his thumb. It was strange, Richard could still remember how he had felt after the huntsman had left him in the forest, how the thought of death terrified him because he feared being forgotten and hated and had no idea what the afterlife would look like, if it even existed. Now he was more worried for Paul than for himself, because Paul seemed so sad and lost and vulnerable…

For both of their sakes, he hoped Oliver really was as good as Paul believed him to be.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me a while, didn't it... Sorry about that, university is a bitch and I have to spend too much of my precious time on my homework and my thesis. Thank you for the kudos and the comments, they're what motivates me to keep writing <3

"I really don't think you should be sitting there, Reesh. Ollie once built that swing for a seven-year-old patient, I'm not sure how long it can carry the weight of an adult man."

"Leave me alone, Paul. I am the king of this land and if I want to swing on this swing, I will."

"Now that's a sentence I never thought I'd hear."

Richard winked at him. "Life is full of surprises, my dear."

It had been the third day since their arrival at Oliver's house. It was about three times as big as Paul's tiny cabin and because Oliver was used to having a patient or two staying at his place, there were several beds and enough free space for all of them. It was also tidier and  the furniture looked nicer and more expensive - Paul had thought it would please Richard who was used to more luxury, but just yesterday, he had told Paul he had missed how cosy and warm their cabin was. The fact that he had called it ''their' cabin instead of only Paul's made Paul feel warm inside.

Even though many hours had passed since the accident, Richard still showed no signs of illness. Paul prayed that against all odds, the poison hadn't got into Richard's system and he would be fine. Maybe it had not actually been the comb that had cut him, maybe Richard had got confused in the heat of the battle. Or maybe the spell had been wearing off of the comb and now it wasn't strong enough to kill Richard anymore.

For a while, he was standing there quietly, watching the wind playing with Richard's hair as he was swaying lightly. Despite all that had been troubling him, Paul had to smile. In that moment, Richard looked so carefree and innocent and adorable that Paul could kiss him.

"What's funny?" Richard asked with a smirk.

"You are."

"So you're laughing at me?"

"I wouldn't dare, Your Majesty," Paul said with a mocking grin, "but you look happy. Which makes me happy, too."

In response, Richard offered him a wide smile of his own. "It's a nice evening and I'm spending it with my favourite person. What's there not to be happy about? Well, I guess the dying thing, but..."

And although he was joking, suddenly the magic of the moment was gone, as was Paul's smile. He was trying so hard to stay positive, but then Richard said something like this and Paul could feel the remains of his happiness crumbling like a house of cards.

Richard didn't miss the change in Paul's expression. "Paul?"

"I... I have to go back in. I'm cold," Paul said, not looking him in the eye.

"If you're cold, I can give you my coat."

Paul shook his head. "That won't help, but thank you," he said quietly, running inside like a coward and leaving Richard alone.

*

"You know Paul, you can take a break for a while. Go outside or something," said Oliver.

Paul had been spending his days by Richard's side catering for all his needs. He had never once left the house withut him and he slept next to him every night.

He shook his head. Oliver did not look surprised. "Did you sleep last night?"

"You are Richard's doctor, not mine," Paul pointed out.

"So you didn't."

"Doesn't matter. Any updates on the antidote?"

Oliver hung his had down and sighed. That was all the answer Paul needed. "I'm doing all I can Paul, really…"

"I know," said Paul softly and patted Oliver on the shoulder. "You are the one who should take a break here, you never stop working."

It had been five days since the accident and while Richard didn't look like a dying man, there was no doubt that he was ill anymore. It was the slowness of his walk and speech and his constant tiredness although he slept more than enough. He found it difficult to concentrate on anything for a longer time and any kind of physical activity exhausted him quickly.

Oliver had been working very hard on finding the cure the whole time, he had reread probably every single book he owned (and that was a lot of books), prepared several potions he thought might work and tried out some common healing spells, but to no avail. Examining the poison didn’t help him much either because there was no mention of anything similar in any of the literature and his colleagues hadn't been confronted with it either.

"I'm fine," said Oliver with a reassuring smile. "But you… how are you feeling?"

"How should I be feeling?"

"Well…" Oliver scratched his head. "You two are close, aren't you?"

Paul wasn't sure what to say, so he simply nodded.

"That's why I'm asking you if you're alright… It must be hard for you, seeing him like this."

And here it was again, Oliver's therapist mode. Paul sighed. "Yeah… You have no idea. I constantly feel like I'm going to throw up or something."

"I can prepare some special tea or medicine that will help you calm down."

Paul shook his head. "I appreciate that, but… no, I'd rather not take anything. I have to be fully conscious in case he needs my help or company or… if he just needs me."

For a moment, Oliver was quiet, looking pensive. Then he slowly said, "The friend of yours who was staying at your place and suffered from bad nightmares… that was Richard, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, how long has it been since you met him?"

Paul's brow furrowed in thought. How would he know? It felt like forever. "Uh… I'm not sure, I can't think properly. Sorry. My mind is a mess right now, I have to keep thinking about... what if..."

"He will be fine," said Oliver, but he did not sound half as convinced about his words as Paul would want him to. "Do you want to... talk?"

"About?"

Oliver shrugged. "About this whole situation? About him? I don't know, you look like you want to talk."

"You always say I talk too much."

Oliver gave him a weary smile. "I will forgive you this one time."

"Okay..." Where should Paul even begin? Too much had happened in the previous weeks, he wasn't used to leading such an adventurous life. "Uhh, so..."

Oliver decided to help him out - "How do you feel about him?" - except it wasn't helpful at all. Feelings were meant to be felt and not described because words rarely did their complexity justice. How did he feel about Richard? Most of all, he was feeling scared as hell right now, terrified at the prospect of losing him and never again seeing the way his eyes lighted up when Paul said something funny or hearing his rich voice and his contagious laughter. Paul enjoyed the company of other people but he was used to living alone and never before had he felt so dependent on anyone. He didn't want to be alone anymore, he wanted Richard by his side, every day.

"I, um..." Paul could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Are you in love with him?" Oliver asked softly.

And what would be the point in lying to Oliver or to himself now? Even the queen, who had most likely never cared about another human being in her life, could see it. She thought Richard had paid Paul to pretend he was smitten with him, but damn, he had spoken as openly and honestly as he could. "I... yes, I think I am."

And then he told Oliver everything. The whole story from the moment he had found Richard's unconscious body in the forest and decided to take him in and how he soon turned from a stranger to a friend to something-more-than-a-friend-but-damn-if-he-has-a-name-for-it.

Oliver patiently listened to him, as he always did. When Paul was finished, Oliver didn't say anything. Oliver was very good at not saying anything. Then he sighed quietly and hugged Paul.

"Thanks Ollie," Paul murmured, not specifying what he was thanking him for because there was too much of it - for being his most trusted friend, for listening to his emotional babbling and most of all for trying to save Richard's life.

"Thank me when he's healthy again," said Oliver quietly.

And although he said when, but Paul knew he was thinking if.

*

In some moments it seemed to Richard as if Paul was his doctor, not Oliver, because it was Paul who sat by his side all the time, kept asking him how he was, brought him food and tea, held his hand, helped him with anything he asked for... and with each day, the number of things Richard couldn't do on his own had unfortunately been growing. It had been seven days since his encounter with the queen and at this point he was so weak he couldn't stand up, hell, or even sit up, without help. He could barely move and he slept most of the time. The poorly concealed relief he could see on Paul's face every time he woke up spoke volumes; apparently he looked so ill that whenever he fell asleep, Paul was afraid he wouldn't wake up.

He was starting to worry about the same thing, too. He wasn't in pain, thankfully, but he could sense the strength slowly seeping out of him and at this point he already felt more dead than alive, like some sort of a ghost. For Paul, he was trying to fight it, but he knew this was a battle he couldn't win using only his inner strength.

"Paul?"

Within a second, Paul was standing in the door and giving him a concerned look. "Did you call me, Reesh? Do you need something?"

"Not really," Richard replied, half-whispering. He couldn't even speak properly anymore, his voice was too weak. "I just want you to be here..."

Paul smiled, knelt down next to Richard's bed and gently squeezed his hand. "Okay. I am here."

Richard sighed. Seriously, what did he do to deserve Paul? The man was a saint, not only he took care of Richard and tolerated all his flaws, but he seemed to be genuinely fond of him. "Oliver hasn't found anything today, has he?"

Paul's face fell. So that was a no, just as Richard had expected. "I'm sorry," Paul murmured.

"It's alright." A little voice inside Richard's head was telling him that he couldn't keep this up for long. His vision had been hazy the whole day, his breathing slow and heavy. He felt even more out of touch with reality than he did after his nightmares. "I am so tired, Paul... I want to sleep."

"Then sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Richard slowly shook his head. "I... I think that I," he yawned, "won't wake up if I do."

"Of course you will," said Paul firmly, taking hold of Richard's other hand, too, and shifting closer to him. "You have to. Please."

"I'm sorry, it's stroger than me..."

"Nothing is stronger than you, you're like... like a phoenix. Whatever tragedy the world traps you in and however long you have to burn in its flames, the fire always dies in the end and you rise again from the ashes."

"Eventually, everything has to end. Even the life of a phoenix, once it encounters a fire so wild it gets lost in all the blaze."

"But when it starts to rain, even the biggest fire is suddenly small. And rain is such a simple and common thing... yet so powerful."

Richard smiled bitterly. "Well, if the poison in my blood is the fire, then where is the rain? Where's that simple and powerful thing that is going to save me from dying?"

"I don't know..."

"Neither do I." Richard sighed and paused. "Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"If I die today... there's some things I want you to know."

"You won't die," said Paul quietly, always trying to be hopeful.

Richard did not have the strength to argue, not anymore, so he simply continued. "I want to thank you, for everything." He wasn't sure if Paul could understand his quiet and slurred speech because he was feeling like he had drunk several bottles of very cheap alcohol and his vocal cords, like the rest of his body, were doing what they wanted and not what _he_ wanted them to do. "For being you, with your selflessness and kindness and your beautiful smile. I used to think people were all mean and evil, but then I met you and my whole world changed. You've saved me so many times and in so many different ways and I wish I could make it up to you somehow… But I can't. I'm sorry for that."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Paul murmured.

"I have everything to apologise for. All I've done is make your life more complicated."

Paul shook his head resolutely. "No. No, don't say that. I mean, I guess you are right in a way, but complicated isn't always bad. All that we've been through… it's been worth it. I'm glad I got to know you and you make me happy."

"You make me happy, too," Richard said with an attempted smile. He could feel sleepiness creeping in, but he needed to stay awake, at least a little bit longer. With difficulty, he raised one of his hands to stroke Paul's cheek lightly.

For a while, all they did was stare into each other's eyes in silence. Paul's gaze was gentle and affectionate and Richard thought that if he never woke up again and this was meant to be the last thing he would ever see, he wouldn't really mind.

His eyes were beginning to close and the last thing he could remember before the drowsiness took over him was the sight of Paul leaning down to him and the way Paul's lips brushed against his own in a soft kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

When he opened his eyes, Paul was lying next to him, still sleeping with his head buried in a pillow. Richard smiled fondly, ruffled Paul's hair and sat up. He put his hand over his mouth to stiffle a yawn. God, he was so hungry he could eat a whole cow! He stood up and walked over to the door as quietly as he could, careful not to wake Paul up.

Then the realisation hit him.

"Oliver!" he shouted as soon as the door of his temporary had closed behind him.

Oliver, who was already awake - or still awake? Who knew if the man ever slept - immediately rushed to the hallway. "Your Majesty? Why aren't you in your bed?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Please stop it with the Your-Majestying, I'm just Richard for friends." Or Reesh for very, very good friends. "And, well... didn't you use some medicine on me while I was sleeping?"

"Uh, no? Why are you asking?"

"I have my voice and my strength back! I can walk! I could even dance if I wanted to."

Oliver's face twisted in confusion. "Are you saying the poison stopped working? All of sudden?"

"Yes!" Richard began to laugh. It was wonderful, feeling so alive after days of being bed-bound and reliant on Paul's and Oliver's help.

"That is... strange. Don't get me wrong, I'm relieved to hear you're feeling better, but..."

"But you weren't expecting it? Yeah, me neither." Richard grinned and briefly hugged Oliver. "Thank you, doctor. I guess one of your potions probably just took a bit longer to kick in."

Oliver shook his head. "No, this wasn't my doing, I'm sure of that... What were you doing before you called me?"

"Sleeping."

"So you just woke up and suddenly you were feeling better?"

Richard nodded. He didn't care if it sounded impossible, all that was important to him in the moment was the fact that his body was cooperating with him once again.

The door to the bedroom flew open. Richard turned around and smiled at Paul who was standing there with a bewildered expression on his face. "Good morning, sunshine."

"You... you're not in your bed," Paul said.

"What an observant man you are, Paulchen."

"But... how?"

"We've just been trying to figure it out," Oliver replied. "Richard, what were you doing before you fell asleep?"

"Talking to Paul."

"Nothing else?"

Richard's gaze flew over to Paul who was currently very busy examining shoes. He looked awkward and adorable and Richard decided it would be funnier to let him answer instead. "My memory is kind of hazy, I'm not sure... You should ask Paul."

Of course he remembered everything, how could he not? Paul's lips barely touched his and it was so short and hesitant, but Paul actually kissed him and the thought was making him even more giddy and light-headed. It sounded so nice he had to repeat it to himself a few more times. Paul kissed him. Paul kissed him. _Paul fucking kissed him._

Paul looked up at him and didn't say anything at first, but Richard could just tell he was thinking _I know you're full of shit Richard, but you've just barely escaped death so I'm going to let it pass._ "I'm afraid I might have kissed him. Accidentally."

"Accidentally?!"

"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes your head just kinda falls down and your faces touches someone else's."

"Oh stop kidding yourself, Paul, you know you've been aching to do that since you first saw me."

Paul shrugged and smiled at him. "Yeah, okay. You got me."

"Wait... Really?"

"Well, maybe not since when I saw you first, because you were unconscious and there was a plenty of other things I had to worry about, but then you woke up and looked at me and I thought you were the most handsome man I had ever seen. Unfortunately, the magic was gone once you opened your mouth and started talking."

"Ha ha. I know you think you're funny, but you're not."

"Of course I'm funny, I'm the funniest person in the world and you know it."

"You're awful."

"Thanks, you too," Paul said and winked at him.

Richard couldn't help it; he threw himself at Paul and crushed their mouths together. Paul immediately responded by pulling him closer and parting his lips to give him better access. The way Paul clung to him and the quiet pleased noises he made as Richard deepened the kiss left Richard wondering why he had waited until now to do this.

Oliver cleared his throat. Oh. Right. They weren't alone. Richard reluctantly pulled away from  Paul and gave Oliver a small apologetic smile.

"Well… It's quite possible it was the kiss that broke the spell," Oliver continued as though nothing had happened, "or it could have been something one of you two said, but I find that less likely."

Paul smirked. "Looks like I've made a habit of saving your life, Reesh."

"I'm not complaining," said Richard with a smile. Especially not if Paul continued saving him in such pleasant ways.

"To be honest I'd prefer not having to worry about you dying all the time."

"Like it's my fault!"

"Not saying it is, but… you could try to be a little bit more careful."

"I am always careful," Richard assured him. "Anyway, now that the queen is dead, I shouldn't be in danger anymore. Which reminds me… oh god, I need to return to the castle as soon as possible! If it still stands. I wouldn't be surprised if I came back to the city only to see it had been destroyed by the bloody power-hungry aristocrats. I wonder if anyone has tried to seize the throne or if everyone is just running around in confusion, not knowing what to do."

"I would advise you to stay here for another day or two and get some more rest, but somehow I know you're not going to listen to me," said Oliver.

Richard nodded. "You're right. I can't waste my time here, I need to go home and get my kingdom back."

"Should I go with you?" Paul asked.

Richard paused to consider the offer. He did not want to part ways with Paul, but he believed it would be wiser to arrive at the castle on his own. He was going to have to make announcements, negotiate with the nobles, dismiss some of the queen's people he did not deem trustworthy and deal with a lot of other tedious political issues. Paul would most likely find it all boring and besides, it would be strange if Richard kept showing up to meetings with an unknown man who had no title or official business in the castle. "I think it will be better if I go alone, although I'd love to have you there with me. I'll make some important arrangements and then I'll come visit you, alright?"

"Alright," Paul nodded, although he seemed reluctant to let Richard go.

"Good," said Richard, smiling at Paul and stealing another kiss from him; only a small and quick one, so that he wouldn't annoy Oliver. He then looked over at the doctor. "Thank you for letting me stay here and taking care of me, Oliver, I really appreciate it."

Oliver laughed. "I wasn't of much help, it was Paul who saved you."

"Still, you did your best. And if nothing else, that tea Paul got from you to help me with my nightmares has definitely been useful. I would like to take some of it with me, if you don't mind."

"I don't have any at the moment, but I'll prepare it for you and you can pick it up the next time you're around here."

"Sounds good. Well… I think I'll have to get going. Thank you both for your help, you have no idea how grateful I am. I'll stop by as soon as I can, okay?" He shook Oliver's hand and then wrapped his arms around Paul in a tight hug.

"I'm so relieved you're okay," Paul whispered next to his ear.

"So am I."

"Take care of yourself for me, will you?"

"Of course, Paul. Of course I will."

*

Paul put on his best clothes – which honestly were nothing special either, but no one could say he didn’t at least make some effort to look presentable - and headed towards the city. The more he thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed to him that Richard was actually going to be king. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Richard to be good at it, because he would trust Richard with his life, but the whole idea of having one person who controls the whole land and makes decisions that can radically change the lives of thousands of people seemed somewhat… unfair.

Today, during the coronation, Richard would officially become the most powerful man in the kingdom who would be responsible for the well-being of everyone living in it. His Richard, who needed Paul to hold him so that he could sleep well, who nearly broke Oliver's swing because he was such a big manchild, who had proved to be the worst drunk star-gazer ever and who smiled shyly whenever Paul paid him a compliment. He was such a ridiculous man with a gentle heart and Paul was so helplessly in love with him and it was hard for him to come to terms with the fact that Reesh would no longer be staying in the cabin with him.

It had been roughly a week since Richard's illness had been cured. He had only visited Paul once since then; he had arrived yesterday with two guards who wouldn't leave his side for a second. Apparently they followed him everywhere he went and although Richard didn't seem exactly delighted about it, his advisors would go crazy if they found out he had been wandering through the forest on his own.

Richard hadn't stayed for long, because there had been some diplomacy related issues he had needed to take care of. Paul could see that he was tired and that he would much rather just relax and spend some time with him, but duty had called and he couldn't afford to linger. Paul, whose heart had skipped several beats when he had spotted Richard approaching the cabin, had of course been happy to see him, but their brief meeting had also left him with some concerns. Now that Richard got his throne back, how often would they be able to meet each other?

Paul shook his head. There was no point in worrying about the future, was there? Anything could happen and he was neither a god nor a magician to be able to predict what destiny had in store for the two of them. He would have to wait and see.

The city square, where the public coronation would soon commence, was overcrowded, as if everyone in the whole kingdom had arrived to watch the ceremony. People were trying to get closer to the platform, shoving away anyone who would get in their way, stepping on each other's toes and yelling at one another. Upon becoming a part of a crowd, people tended to forget their manners and behave more like animals. The city was a mostly quiet and uneventful place and whenever something remotely interesting took place there, everybody and their mother had to come and witness. And right now, they all seemed to be eager to catch a glimpse of their future king.

Soon enough, they got what they wanted. Richard, accompanied by several men in heavy armour, was climbing the stairs leading up to the platform. His walk was slow and deliberate; Paul couldn't decide whether it was because Richard wanted to look more serious or he was simply trying to avoid tripping over his long robe. His attire was mostly black as usual, except for the golden embroidery on his back and the white ermine trimming of his mantle. His eyes, rimmed with smudged black lines, looked somehow bigger and darker.

But those were only details. In Paul's view, what made the biggest difference in Richard's appearance was his posture and his stern gaze, both of which reminded Paul of Richard's mother. Suddenly there was something undeniably majestic about him that made Paul and everyone around him feel strangely small. Paul had never seen a king before, but now he was absolutely certain that this was what one was supposed to look like.

"Oh my god, Paul, you actually have a crush on that guy," said Flake's voice somewhere near him, half amused and half incredulous.

Paul, startled, jerked his head. "Flake! What are you doing here?"

"Fishing, what else?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Really funny. When did you get here? I didn't notice you coming."

"Yeah, because you were too busy gawking at the king with hearts in your eyes."

"I wasn't doing that," Paul mumbled, all too aware that he was lying. "By the way, I wouldn't expect you here, I thought you weren't interested in big public ceremonies like this."

Flake shrugged. "I had nothing better to do. And although I hate most of these noble bastards, this one seems to be… well, less of a bastard than the rest. At least for now. He gave Till a house in the centre of the city and a nice amount of money so that he could afford a nanny who'd look after his girls."

Paul had to smile. "He did?"

"Yeah, Till told me it's because he saved his life or something."

"That's true. He shot two of his mother's guards who were trying to take him down."

Flake frowned. "And how do you know that?"

In that moment it occurred to Paul that although Flake had already met Richard, he hadn't realised it was him. It was no wonder, the one time Paul and Richard had come to his stand looking for information, Richard had been wearing a hood to cover his face and stay unrecognised. He did not look very king-like back then. "I was there, too. Protecting Richard, just like Till."

"A tiny man like you, trying to defeat professional fighters? What were you thinking?"

Paul wasn't offended by Flake's words, this was just how the man was. If you couldn't deal with his sharp tongue and sarcastic remarks, you couldn't be friends. "I was thinking that I didn't want Richard to get hurt."

"Okay, this story only keeps getting weirder and weirder. When and why did you start caring about that guy's safety? How did Till get involved? What the hell is going on here?"

"It's a long story, Flake. Do you remember how I once took a friend to the city, we paid you a visit and joked about him wanting to blow up the castle?"

"Yeah, why..." Flake stopped mid-sentence and gave Paul what could only be described as an exemplary bitchface. "That bloke was Richard, wasn't it."

"Yep."

"Let me sum this up... I was complaining about how I hate aristocrats and making fun of you having an affair with Richard... right in front of Richard."

"Yep."

"Great. Should I wait for the king's men to arrest me or should I spare them the trouble and tie the noose around my neck myself?"

Paul laughed. "Come on, Richard isn't like that. He wouldn't execute someone because of a couple of jokes, he's not evil like his mother. And he has a sense of humour."

"Good for him. But back to my previous question - how did you and him become buddies?"

"Long story short, the queen wanted him dead and he needed somewhere to hide, so I offered him to stay at my place. Then I got to know him better and we became friends. As for Till, he'd only met Richard the day before the queen's guards attacked us, but he could tell we were in trouble and decided to watch us from afar and step in if necessary."

Flake couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes. "Of course you would take in a random stranger and then almost get killed for him. That is so... you."

"I don't regret anything," Paul said with a small shrug and turned his attention back to Richard. The master of ceremonies was just about to put the crown on his head when their eyes met. Richard's gaze softened and his lips curled up in a barely visible smile. The moment passed quickly and Richard was once again staring at some distant point in front of him, but Paul couldn't stop smiling. Where everyone else saw their new king, Paul saw his Richard.

And he believed that where everyone else saw a giant crowd, Richard only saw him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Goddamn university, keeping me from writing fanfiction...  
> By the way I've raised the rating, but don't expect anything too explicit lol. I can't write porn, but I thought there should be something at least slightly indecent, so... yeah ;D  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I love you guys! ♥

_Dear Paul,_

_thank you for coming to the coronation. On one hand it felt good to finally have the crown on my head, see my people and hear their applause, on the other hand I was so nervous I thought I'd die. I really hope it didn't show, I wouldn't want my people to think I'm a coward. I wouldn't want_ you _to think I'm a coward._

_You wouldn't believe what kind of stuff people come to me with, by the way. Yesterday, a nobleman had an audience with me and all he did was complain about some farmer who gave him a mean look. He wanted me to put him in jail for that! Wish I had his problems, really. I pretty much told him that he's an idiot who should stop wasting my time and he started yelling that he expected more understanding from me and that he misses the good old queen. What a dick._

_Anyway, I hope you're doing fine. Sorry for not visiting you more often, unfortunately I have been too busy dealing with IDIOTS, but I promise I'll stop by sometime this week. I miss you and I can't wait to see your smile again._

_Richard_

*

_Your handsome Majesty,_

_if you were nervous, it didn't show at all. You looked amazing. And you know I'd never consider you a coward, right? And well, I guess that dealing with stuck up noblemen sucks, but it could be worse. At least there are no wars or plague or other disasters. We are lucky to live in a time like this._

_You better get your arse here soon, I'm getting bored here all alone. And I miss you, too._

_Paul_

_*_

_Dear Paul,_

_when I was out in the city today, I saw a poor young woman trying to sell some flowers. She looked sad and I thought she could use the money, so... I bought her flowers. All four baskets._

_Only then I started wondering what I could possibly do with them and I came to the conclusion I should send them to someone I like (meaning you). At least you'll have something to decorate your place with and whenever you look at them, you can think "Oh my god, Richard is so sweet and generous and he is my favourite person in the whole wide world! The next time I see him, I have to give him a big passionate kiss!"_

_I will get my arse there soon, don't worry._

_I still miss you, by the way._

_Richard_

_*_

_Richard,_

_oh my god you are so sweet and generous and you are my favourite person in the whole wide world! The next time I see you, I have to give you a big passionate kiss._

_I still miss you too._

_Paul_

_*_

Paul woke up to the overwhelmingly sweet smell of flowers Richard had sent him a few days ago. It was a bit too much for his poor nose and he barely had place in his small cabin for so many flowers, but he couldn't throw them away. They were from Richard, after all, and the gesture was sweet and silly. He glanced at the bouquet of tulips on his night table and smiled, but then he remembered his yesterday's conversation with Flake and his smile dropped.

_"There's been rumours," Flake said, avoiding Paul's eyes for some reason._

_Paul frowned. "There's always rumours."_

_"Yes, but... I think this particular rumour won't please you," said Flake slowly._

_How could some stupid gossip possibly hurt him? "Tell me more about it."_

_"Prince Christoph is on his way here."_

_"That's the rumour?"_

_"That's a fact. One that gave birth to many rumours, but one of them is prevalent."_

_Paul's patience was wearing thin; since when was Flake this mysterious? He much preferred his usual blunt and cheeky self. "Yes? Go on."_

_Flake finally looked him in the eye. "People think he wants to ask Richard to marry him. And I don't want to be a dick, but it's a logical conclusion - as the youngest sibling, his claims to the family throne aren't too big and there isn't much pressure on him to ever father his own children... Which is probably good because I don't imagine someone with his reputation could be a good parent, but it also means that his parents would definitely approve of him marrying a foreign king. Let's be honest, your boyfriend is quite a catch."_

_"And then there's the whole thing about strengthening alliances," said Paul faintly. "Richard once told me he and Christoph had been engaged... Shit, maybe that engagement is valid again now that Richard has his title back. I have no idea how these things work."_

_Flake sighed. "Me neither."_

_"So, do you think... do you think it will happen? Do you think Richard will marry him?" Paul asked in a small voice._

_"Funny how you always ask me about Richard's actions and whereabouts when you know him much better than I do. I've never even talked to him! Do_ you _think Richard would do it?"_

Paul had just shrugged it off awkwardly and changed the topic. Flake had been smart enough not to bring it up again for the rest of their conversation which had mostly consisted of small talk and dry jokes. They had parted, Paul had returned home and had been doing his best to avoid thinking about the subject.

But he could not keep pushing it away forever, could he?

Christoph was on his way to their kingdom and he would probably reach his destination within the next few days. What could his plans possibly be? He might simply want to congratulate Richard on becoming the new ruler of the kingdom, but if that was the case, wouldn't he have arrived sooner and attended the coronation? If only Paul was more educated in matters related to royal etiquette.

He was still lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and not moving. Honestly, what were the chances of him and Richard getting a happily ever after? Even if Richard wouldn't end up marrying Christoph, it was still expected of him to eventually get married to someone of noble birth. And Paul was just a commoner with no title, no land and no money. It was not too common for someone with royal blood to marry a person of the same sex and even much less common for them to marry a low-born. And unfortunately, Paul was both of these things.

He imagined Richard on his throne with Christoph standing by his side and could feel the jealousy and fear twisting his insides. Even if the stories of Christoph's cruelty were exaggerated, Paul still did not want the man anywhere near Richard. He couldn't imagine that someone who enjoyed humiliating his subjects was capable of being a good and caring husband. Paul supposed that if the thing between him and Richard did not work out, he would have to suck it up and deal with it somehow, but he could never ever possibly come to terms with the idea of Richard being forced to live with someone who treated him badly. He would sooner fucking murder Christoph than let him hurt Richard.

But maybe Richard would find someone else than Christoph, someone he could care about or at least tolerate. What then? Paul bit his lip and closed his eyes.

He knew Richard wouldn't just leave him alone and forget him, their bond was too strong for that. However, as a king, he was always busy and there were always people watching him. He kept sending Paul letters and sometimes came to visit him, but his visits were becoming less frequent. Richard couldn't afford to keep running off somewhere to the forest every evening, he had the fate of the entire kingdom resting on his shoulders. And if he would see Paul less and less often, who knew if his feelings wouldn't eventually fade?

Every time Richard arrived to meet him, the first thing he did was grab Paul's face and kiss him and then watch him in awe as if he couldn't believe this was something he was allowed to do anytime he wanted. It was adorable, really. Several times he actually managed to escape the castle through the windows in his chambers and then they weren't distracted by any of his guards.

And on those wonderful but rare occasions when they got to be alone for more than a few minutes, Richard's kisses were desperate and hungry and only ended when they both were breathless and their lips were red. They would stare at each other for a while, mesmerized, and then Richard would continue exploring Paul's body wih his mouth and tongue, first sucking gently at his neck and then slowly moving down over his chest and stomach.

Although Richard had grudgingly admitted he had never even kissed a man and only had experience with women, it didn't show. Or maybe it did show a bit, but Paul didn't care. So what if Richard sometimes hesitated and wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, he was gorgeous and Paul enjoyed every touch or kiss or soft bite or even just a craving look. And of course, he loved touching Richard, too. He loved how needy and touch-starved Richard seemed, as thought Paul's affection  was all he wanted, how his breathing and his heartbeat always went rapid and his vocal cords were producing these noises somewhere between a sigh and a whine, at first quiet and then gradually gaining on intensity.

Paul threw his head back, remembering the sensation of Richard's hands slowly sliding over his skin and examining every part of Paul's body, like a sculptor trying to remember every inch by touch so that he could later reconstruct it by memory. Paul's hand disappeared inside his pants, grabbing his cock, and he was imagining it was Richard stroking him and bringing him to the edge instead.

It took him an embarrassingly short time to finish, even though Richard wasn't even there with him. Paul wondered what it would be like to wake up with Richard in his bed every morning… No, he had better stop daydreaming, he realised how unlikely this dream of his was. Still, it felt nice to think about it. He sighed, snuggled up to his pillow and fell asleep again.

*

_Dear Paul,_

_I think maybe I should have you arrested for being a threat to the kingdom. No really, how am I supposed to do my job properly when all I can think about is you? What if I fuck up some major decision just because I won't be able to concentrate on what I'm doing? I wake up and my first thoughts are about you, I go to bed and fall asleep wishing you were there with me. So now I'm wondering, what should be the sentence for stealing a king's heart?_

_Love,_

_Richard_

_*_

"Ollie… I'm going to ask you a hypothetical question, alright?"

Oliver sighed, likely aware of how this conversation would proceed. "Alright."

"Let's say you were exchanging letters with someone… And they always simply signed the notes with their name, until one day they added _love_. How would you understand that?"

"Well, when someone is sending you their love, it usually means that they love you."

 "You think Richard loves me?"

"You think he doesn't?" Ollie replied with a question.

Truth be told, Paul wasn't sure what he was thinking anymore. "I… I think he likes me and cares about me," he said after a moment, "but I don't know if… if we can make this work. I wish we could, I want it more than anything, but… I don't want to be something he has to keep secret, I don't want to keep waiting for him and hoping that maybe he visits me some day. Or having to sneak into his chambers at night and then disappearing before the sun rises. I want to be a part of his life, forever, I want to be his and I want him to be mine. And I don't want to share him with anyone."

"Those are things you should say to him, not to me."

"I know, I know… but I'm afraid," Paul murmured, looking up at Oliver with sad eyes. "What if I lose him?"

Oliver shook his head. "I don't think you will."

"You're just saying that to comfort me."

"After everything you two have been through, I can't imagine you parting ways just because there might be some difficulties ahead of you. You're going to make it. Do you remember how Richard was in my care and we were worried he might die?"

"Don't even remind me of that, I thought I would lose my mind."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to make a point here. You saved him with a kiss."

"Possibly. We can't tell for sure if it was the kiss that saved him."

"And what else would it be, Paul?" Oliver asked patiently, as if he was speaking to a child.

"Okay, if it makes you happy, let's say it was the kiss that cured him. What does it matter?"

"Well, I've never heard of a curse that could be broken just by any kiss, it's always more complicated than that," said Oliver. "A true love's kiss, on the other hand…"

An awkward laugh bubbled up Paul's throat. "Ah, right. So you're saying it's our fate to be together? I'm not sure I believe in fairytales, not after seeing Richard almost die several times and knowing that even before that, his life in the castle was terrible and he hated every second of it. So far, fate has been a bitch to him."

"Well, you know how fairytales go. Things have a bad start so that they could have a good ending. Fate is a strange thing, but I don't believe it would bring you together and have you save him twice only to take him away from you in the end. When he got lost in the forest, the chances of him surviving were slim. And yet you found him and got him out of there, just because you had a feeling that something was going on and you were supposed to be there. There is a connection between you, something special, something that can't be destroyed."

Paul chuckled. "Wow, I didn't know you were such a romantic soul, Ollie. I wish it was all true, though."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Yeah, because you're such a mysterious hermit type."

Oliver shrugged and gave him a small smile.

"…but you're right," Paul spoke again, "I really have to talk to him the next time we meet. I have to see if we can find a way through this mess. Keep your fingers crossed for me, Ollie."

"I will."


	12. Chapter 12

He was moving from one tree to another, his walk unsteady. Which way was he supposed to go? His memory was hard to reach, there was something like a dark and dense fog inside his head that made it nearly impossible for him to think. His thoughts consisted of single words and blurry images, but nothing coherent. _Forest. Paul. Help.  Now._

After some time – he couldn't tell how long it had been, but it felt like forever - he finished his journey by approaching Paul's modest cabin. His fists hit the wooden door, once, twice. There was no feeling in his hands except for an annoying tingling, so he wasn't sure if he didn't knock too hard. Not that he cared if he did, honestly.

Paul opened the door, blinking at him sleepily. Without greeting him or explaining anything, Richard threw his arms around Paul in a crushing hug.

"Reesh, you'll suffocate me!" Paul squeaked.

Richard muttered a quiet apology and slightly loosened his grip.

"Is something wrong?" Paul asked with palpable concern in his voice.

"Yeah."

"What is it? How can I help?"

"I had a terrifying nightmare. Don't wanna talk about it, it didn't make much sense anyway. All I remember is that there was death and blood and devastation… and now I'm feeling..." Richard drew in a shaky breath. "Not very well. Please, let me stay. I need you."

Paul kissed his forehead. "Of course," he said, took Richard's hand and led him inside.

When they were lying side by side in Paul's bed and Richard could feel the panic easing a bit, he said bitterly, "Sorry about this. I know I'm acting like a child, but..."

Before he could finish, Paul silenced him by putting a hand over his mouth. "No, you're not. Ollie told me he's had some patients with a similar problem, people who went through something awful in their lives and it still haunts them in their dreams and sometimes when they're awake, too. He said he had treated a man whose nightmares were so bad that he didn't sleep at all, he wouldn't even lie down in his bed because he was scared of falling asleep. And this man was a mercenary, so you really don't have to worry about being childish. Everyone is vulnerable sometimes, we're all just human."

"So you don't think I'm just being whiny and pathetic, right?"

"What? No, of course not!" Paul sounded alarmed, as though it had startled him that Richard would even suggest something like this. "Never."

He was the king, he was supposed to be strong and inspiring... yet here he was, running away from his home in the middle of the night because the idea of spending the rest of the night alone terrified him. When he had woken up, he had immediately begun getting dressed and headed towards the forest, his actions completely automatic. He had probably still been half asleep, not quite realising what he had been doing. All he'd been aware of were the fear and the need to be around Paul.

"Richard? Won't your servants freak out if they find your bed empty in the morning?"

"Probably."

"You don't seem to mind."

"Let them freak out, I can do what I want. And what I want right now more than anything is to be here with you."

"Won't you get grounded?" Paul teased him.

Richard had to smile. "If anyone has a problem with how I choose to spend my time, I can always fire them or put them in jail or something."

"That's a little despotic, don't you think?"

"Shut up or I'll put you in jail."

Paul chuckled. "Yes, my lord. Now sleep, your kingdom needs you well rested."

"Mhm, I guess you're right. Good night, Paulchen... and thank you."

"Night, Reesh," Paul murmured. He was holding Richard close, his breath and his body warm, making Richard feel welcome and safe like no one else could.

As he was falling asleep, he could feel Paul's hand gently caressing the skin on the nape of his neck and his lips leaving small kisses in his hair or on his face.

And he wasn't sure if he wasn't making things up or maybe already dreaming, but he thought he could hear a whispered "I love you" next to his ear.

*

When Richard woke up, his back hurt because he was now used to sleeping in his own bed, softer and more comfortable, among a pile of giant fluffy pillows. He did not really mind, though. He lightly ran his fingers over Paul's cheek, thinking that he would trade all the luxury of his castle for him anytime.

Richard knew he should leave as soon as possible, but he simply did not want to. The kingdom wouldn't collapse if he stayed a bit longer, would it?

He yawned and stood up, deciding he might make himself some tea. If only he knew where Paul put it... As he was looking around, he could hear a rustling noise and soon there was a hand on his shoulder. "Good morning, Reesh."

"Morning, Paul." He turned to him with an affectionate smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, how about you?"

"More than well," Richard said and leaned in for a kiss, but Paul recoiled and shook his head slightly. There was sadness in his gaze and Richard, having no idea what had brought this on, gave him a confused look.

Paul cleared his throat. "We need to talk."

That... did not sound well. Not that he had any personal experience with it but from what he had heard, when a conversation between two people in a romantic relationship started with these words, it often ended in a disaster. "About?"

"About us."

"What does that mean?"

"What are you going to do if prince Christoph proposes to you, which he probably will?"

Richard was taken aback. He knew Christoph was on his way to the city, but he hadn't given much thought to what it might mean. "Uhh, I..."

"He'll be here in a couple of days and you still don't know how you'd react?" There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, which was very unlike Paul. It only emphasised the gravity of the situation.

Richard gulped. "I've been busy with a lot of things Paul, I..."

Paul frowned at him; another rare occurrence. "Well, then I wish I had been as busy as you, because I could hardly think about anything else these past days." He sighed, took Richard's hands in his and looked him straight in the eye. His voice was calm now. "Reesh, you are very important to me, but if you get married, I… I don't think I can keep on seeing you."

Richard felt like someone kicked him In the gut. "Paul… Even if I had to marry Christoph, It would have nothing to do with love, you know that, right? It would be just politics. He'd get a title and some of my wealth and he'd accompany me to public events, but…"

"You don't get it, do you." Paul sighed. "Well of course you don't, you have nothing to lose. You'll still have your kingdom and you'll be busy ruling it and maybe once in a while, when you find a moment of time, you'll come see me. And maybe Christoph wouldn't even mind it. But me? Do you think I want to be that loser who just sits here and hopes his lover won't forget him? And you say your marriage would be just politics, but it can never be only that, can it? You'd still spend much more time with him than you would with me, you would officially be seen as couple. And most people expect marriage to have certain… benefits, if you know what I mean. Who knows how Christoph would react if you told him 'Hey, we're getting married but I want nothing to do with you, so we'll be getting separate beds and it will be completely chaste because I like this one guy who lives in his tiny cabin in the forest and I'll be running off to him instead'? You think he'd agree?"

Richard blinked. He hadn't really considered any of this, he had been focused on the present because he had been very happy lately and for once, he could actually live in the moment instead of wishing his future would be brighter. "I… I don't know. But it's not true that I have nothing to lose, do you really think it would be easy for me to live with someone I don't care about? I don't want to marry him, I really don't, and I'll do my best to avoid it."

"What about the alliance? If you refused Christoph's proposal, wouldn't his family get mad? Wars have been declared for pettier reasons."

Richard threw his hands in the air. "How would I know what his family would have to say? I'm not a mind reader."

"Okay. Let's say you'd manage to decline Christoph's offer without upsetting anyone. What then? If you don't marry him, you will probably be expected to marry some other noblewoman or nobleman. I can't think of any monarch in our history who remained unmarried forever."

"What happened to your optimism? You just keep looking for reasons why it couldn't work between us. If you want me out of your life so bad, just say it!" Richard snapped.

He immediately regretted it when he saw the shock and the pain in  Paul's face, but it was too late to take his words back. "I don't have to look for those reasons, one doesn't have to be a genius to realise that maintaining a relationship between a king and a common man can't possibly be simple! I don't want you out of my life, but I can already feel you slipping away from me and it hurts a lot and I don't know what to do! I want to be with you, I want it so fucking much, but not in a way that would result in me getting my heart broken and eventually losing you anyway, do you understand?"

Dread, anger, regret, hopelessness and about a thousand other emotions were crushing Richard's insides and he could hardly find the strength to speak without bursting into tears or fainting. "So what you're implying is that we better end this now because there's no hope for us anyway?"

"I don't know, I… I'm so scared, Richard," Paul whispered and practically collapsed into his arms. "I need you to think about this and try to come up with a solution because right now, I am lost. I have no idea what we should do."

"I'll think of something, I promise," Richard said, although he couldn't tell if this was as promise he could keep.

He really hoped it was, though, because he couldn't imagine his life without Paul anymore. He buried his head in Paul's shoulder and sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was pretty short and angsty, sorry about that! Hope you all don't hate me now lol.  
> Anyway... there is probably only one chapter left, or maybe one chapter and an epilogue, so... soon you'll get to know how it all ends. Got any theories? ;D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been preparing for my finals. Ugh. The chapter is pretty long though, so at least there's that...?  
> The story is mostly finished now, there's going to be only one more update (an epilogue). I'm already working on it and I'll try to post it asap.  
> Ok enough talking now, hope you enjoy the chapter... and comments always make my day btw! <3

Formalities. There had been nothing but goddamn formalities since he had crossed the borders. Everyone was bowing before him and averting their gaze from him and being all "My lord, it is such a privilege to be able to see you!" They were afraid of him, he knew that. And he was glad.

Richard had no idea how lucky he was to rule a kingdom such as this one. Where Christoph came from, the people were a lot wilder and much less obedient. While Richard could afford to settle most disputes by simply talking to his subjects, Christoph's father was rarely allowed by the circumstances to solve matters peacefully. Their kingdom was a chaotic and dangerous place where theft and murder were parts of everyday life. There was nothing he wanted more than to get out of that hellhole, and so as soon as he could, he took the fastest horse from his father's stables and got on his way to the neighbouring kingdom.

After his presence had been announced, Richard had greeted him at the gates and invited him inside. Now they were crossing an annoyingly long hallway that led to Richard's chambers, neither of them uttering a sound. The servants at the castle looked somewhat uneasy when Christoph passed them by, which came as no shock to him. However, what did surprise him was the fact that even Richard seemed to be nervous about his presence. They had met several times before - although only briefly - and unlike most people, Richard had never before shown any signs of discomfort around him. So what was different today?

Richard stopped to hold the door to his chambers open for Christoph. The prince thanked him and entered the room. They sat down on the two chairs placed in the middle of the room right opposite each other, upholstered with red velvet.

Richard spoke first. "I know why you're here."

"Oh?" Of course Richard knew, it was quite self-evident.

Richard shuffled in his chair. "Look. You and I both agree the alliance between our kingdoms should prevail, right?"

Christoph nodded. "Changing the status quo wouldn't do either party any good."

"Exactly. Both of our kingdoms are large, rich in resources and have a big army. There's no reason for us to start any fights in the near future."

"I agree."

"So, if for some reason I were to say I wouldn't marry you... Would you still hold the same views?"

Christoph blinked. This was not a question he was prepared for. "Sorry, what?"

Richard bit his lip. "I... I would rather avoid this marriage, if I can. But I don't want to upset you or your family. It's nothing personal, really, I have nothing against you..."

"Nothing personal? And here I was starting to worry you didn't like my dress." Yet another thing Christoph liked about Richard's kingdom was the fact that people were much more open-minded and no one batted an eye at him wearing make-up and dresses. In his land, the peasants used to mock him for his feminine appearance... Until he decided to punish such behaviour by putting the offender on a leash and walking them through the city. He had only done it a few times, but it stuck in everyone's memory and now a half of the kingdom believed he had some kind of a weird fetish. However, it did put a stop to the insults; nobody wanted to be humiliated like that and have the rest of the city laugh at their misfortune.

And if someone thought Christoph was insane or perverted, well, they tended to keep it to themselves now.

Richard smirked. "No, your dress is lovely. But I... I don't want to marry someone only for political reasons, you know? There is a man who means the world to me and I only want to be with him. I know it's not wise, but the heart wants what the heart wants. I'm begging you, don't make me lose him. Please."

So this was the root of the problem; the king fell for some country boy and couldn't bear to part ways with him. Christoph sighed and said, not quite successful at concealing his irritation, "My father isn't going to be thrilled about this."

"So I imagine… What about you?"

Christoph shrugged. "To be honest, I'm kind of disappointed, but I'm not going to force you to marry me if you're so against the idea." It was known that Richard was a rather emotional man and Christoph would rather not spend the rest of his life with someone who would keep whining about how much he misses his lover. If Richard didn't want Christoph, someone else definitely would; he was a prince, who in their right mind would refuse him?

"Thank you," Richard said, sounding so happy and relieved that Christoph was almost worried the man might stand up and go give him a hug or something. Thankfully, it did not happen.

"But listen... I'm not going back home. I hate that place," said Christoph resolutely. "You want to stay loyal to your sweetheart, that's alright, I can live with that. However, I have a few conditions."

Richard nodded. "I thought you would. Go on."

"You are going to give me a respectable position, such as your main advisor or treasurer or the like. I expect you to pay me well for it. And I need another spouse, someone from a very good family, the richer the better."

"I think I can do that. And your father will be fine with this kind of an arrangement?"

Christoph laughed. "He'll have to, what else can he do? I'll make up some clever story about why it is more convenient for me to marry someone other than you."

"Thank you, I appreciate your help," said Richard quietly. "But there's something else I'd like to ask of you."

Christoph raised his eyebrow. "Seriously? You dump me and then you won't stop asking me for favours?"

"It's nothing major, I just want you to stop with the... dog thing once you move here," Richard explained. "You know, the collars and leashes and stuff. This is not how I want to solve disputes in my kingdom."

Christoph grinned. "I can do that, but only if you get me an actual dog. Or two. Three would be even better. Some huge scary looking ones that are actually friendly and playful and like to snuggle."

"You know Christoph, I'm starting to think maybe you're not as much of a jerk as people claim."

"What ever made you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, just a hunch." Richard smiled. "So what now, will you send word to your father? Or will you travel back home to talk to him?"

"I think it will be better to discuss things with him in person. Don't worry though, you'll have me back in no time," Christoph assured Richard and winked at him. "In the meantime, I suggest that you start looking for a suitable spouse for me."

After a short pause, he added, "And suitable dogs."

*

_Dear Richard,_

_my father was upset at first, but he's calmed down since. He's still a bit grumpy though, so I think maybe you should consider sending him some nice gift, that will make him like you again. Just a suggestion._

_I'll settle some matters here and soon I'll be on my way back. Expect me in about a week._

_Best of luck to you and your country boy_

_Christoph_

*

"How do I look?"

_"Are you serious? Is this really the first thing you ask me as a king?"_

"Now listen to me you piece of shit, you should be glad I haven’t smashed you into pieces. It was because of your stupid prophecy that my mother tried to kill me."

_"It was destiny's fault, not mine. I only told the queen about what I saw, as is my duty."_

Richard snorted. "Right. Either way I guess it doesn’t really matter now that my mother is gone. Oh, and… aren’t you supposed to speak in rhymes? I'm pretty sure you used to."

_"Try constantly speaking in rhymes for centuries, you would get tired of it, too."_

"Fair enough... So, will you finally answer my question? You're a goddamn mirror, it's only logical that I ask you if I look good."

_"...yes, you do."_

"Thank you! Wasn't that hard, was it?"

The mirror didn't grace Richard with a reply; not that he waited for one. He merely smirked and ran out of the room.

*

Paul had lately been spending a lot of time just lying in his bed and thinking. He didn't feel like doing anything, he was too tired and too upset with the world.

Christoph had been supposed to arrive several days ago, Paul didn't know the exact date. As he hadn't heard from Richard since his unexpected visit in the middle of the night, he had no idea how the meeting between the king and the prince had gone and what they had agreed on. If Richard had any sort of a plan, he had not shared it with him.

Paul had been considering writing a letter to Richard, aching to get in touch with him, but in the end he decided against it. He couldn't think of anything to write that wouldn't sound stupid or desperate. He had even taken a piece of paper and tried to come up with something, but ended up writing only "Dear Richard, I miss you so much", crumpling the note up and tossing it into the corner of the room. Now it was Richard's turn to figure things out and contact him.

Although he would never actually do it, Paul was imagining himself barging into the castle, running after Christoph and yelling something like "Fuck off, he's mine!" He was fairly sure that had their positions been reversed, Richard would most likely take a similar action and then he would only end up getting them both in more trouble. Paul smirked.

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door. He leapt to his feet, rushed to the door and opened it.

"Hello, Paul," Richard greeted him with a small smile.

It took a moment for Paul to be able to form any kind of a response as he was too busy staring at Richard. From the look of him, the king probably had some very important event planned for that day. The black clothing with silver patterns that he was dressed in was probably even costlier than the attire he wore at his coronation. Paul had to appreciate the way the clothes fit snugly to his body. In addition to that, Richard's hair was nicely styled and his eyes complimented with smoky make-up. He looked simply stunning.

"...hi," Paul finally replied. "You look great."

Richard grinned at him, apparently aware of the effect his appearance had on Paul and very pleased with it. "Thank you. How has your day been?"

Long, boring and full of worrying. "Fine and yours?"

"Fine as well." Richard paused. He looked nervous and Paul noticed his hands were slightly shaking. He only hoped it didn't mean that Richard was here to bring him bad news. "I, um... I talked to Christoph."

Paul swallowed. His stomach flipped with fear and anticipation alike. "And? How did it go?"

"Surprisingly well, he is more reasonable than people give him credit for."

"Which means?" Why couldn't Richard just get on with it and say what he came here to say?

"Before he arrived, I went through all the possible scenarios in my head. I came to the conclusion that marrying Christoph would be the most reasonable choice and also the best one for this kingdom, but... God, I'm so tired of always making sacrifices. I have spent too many years locked in this castle, hating my life and myself and everyone around me. My mother always resented me, made my life hell and actually ordered one of her men to murder me, you can't imagine how much that fucks with a person's mind. I can't do this anymore, I can't spend my remaining years alongside someone I don't care about and who doesn't care about me. I mean damn it, even a total mess like me deserves some happiness... right?"

"Of course you do," said Paul quietly and took Richard's hand to give it a light reassuring squeeze. "You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"So do you." Richard smiled and leant in, putting their foreheads together. "Anyway… I told Christoph I didn't want to become his husband. He was a bit startled at first, but he took it well and said he wouldn't force me into something I didn't want. Of course he had some requests and conditions, but it was nothing I couldn't grant him."

"And what about the king, won't he cause you any trouble because of this?"

"No, Christoph has taken care of that."

"Good."

"Yes, good." Richard pulled away a bit and gave Paul an awkward smile. "My advisors aren’t exactly happy about my decision, I guess you can imagine that. I thought they would strangle me when I informed them about it, but… well, I am the fucking king here after all, they can complain all they want but this is my life and not theirs. First they asked me to reconsider, ride to Christoph's castle and apologise for my rashness; when I said that was out of the question, they started bringing up various names of people from wealthy families that I could marry instead of Christoph… I asked them to leave me the fuck alone because I can handle this myself and don't need them to play goddamn matchmakers. It's terrible, really, one would think that being king gives you the freedom to do anything you'd like but it's actually the opposite. You can hardly draw a breath without someone telling you that you went wrong about it and that you're leading the entire kingdom to its doom."

Richard sighed and paused shortly before continuing. "Anyway, enough about these arseholes, I'm here to talk about us, not about them."

Paul nodded, encouraging Richard to go on with a gentle smile. Hope was blossoming in his chest. After going through all this trouble and refusing Christoph, Richard would have to be incredibly cruel to just say goodbye to him and put no more effort in their relationship. "Yes, Your Majesty? What are your plans with me?"

"My plans, well…" Richard put his hands behind his back, probably in an attempt to hide the way his fingers wouldn't stop fidgeting restlesstly. "Listen Paul, you… you’ve completely changed my life, you know that, right?  It's like… I spent most of my life surrounded by darkness and then you came and suddenly there was light and happiness and all the things I never thought I could have. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I would do anything for you and I want to be a part of your life, always. I want to be there for you whenever you need me, protect you from anything and anyone that would hurt you. I want you to be happy and see you smile every day… and be the reason why you smile. And if something bad happened and you were going through tough times, I'd be there to hold you and comfort you and do my best to make things better for you again."

Richard's words and the tenderness in his gaze left Paul speechless. He knew he was probably supposed to say something, but it seemed his mind had shut down completely and all he could do was drown in Richard's eyes while a wave of warmth was spreading through his body.

Richard cleared his throat and continued. "But, well, I can hardly do any of that if you stay here and we keep communicating through goddamn letters. It's frustrating and complicated and just... not enough. While I like reading your letters - I've kept every single one you sent me - nothing compares to actually being near you. I know you've lived in this place for years and it has become close to your heart, but... don't you think maybe it's time for a change?"

"What kind of a change are you proposing?" Paul asked, the sound of his heartbeat deafening as it pounded in his ears.

Richard smiled sheepishly and covered Paul's hands with his. "Only the best kind, of course. You see, living on your own in a giant castle can get pretty boring and lonely after a while. One would say that being a king, I surely must have everything my heart desires, but that's not true, at least not yet. What I want most of all is - well, the same thing everybody does, I suppose."

"Even more gold? Another castle?" Paul teased him.

Richard chuckled. "More gold is always nice, but... no. If that was the case, I would have married Christoph and together we'd have so much gold we could never possibly get to spend it all. Guess again."

Paul shook his head and moved closer to Richard, their faces a breath apart. "I don't want to guess," he said softly. "I'd rather hear you say it."

Richard tilted his head forward as though he was going to kiss Paul, but he stopped with his lips merely hovering over Paul's. "There are two kinds of people," he murmured, "those who marry for money and those who marry for love. And since I've already refused someone who only proposed to me because of my wealth, I think it's quite obvious which kind I am. What I want is to spend the rest of my life with the man I love... that is, if he feels the same. If _you_ feel the same."

Paul blinked. "Are you... asking me to marry you?"

A rosy tint found its way to Richard's cheeks. "I won't lie to you, being my husband wouldn't be easy. The whole royal court would despise you for not being a noble man. You'd have basically no privacy, you'd have to attend a lot of boring meetings, deal with pretentious arseholes every day, worry about every single thing that might go wrong in this whole bloody kingdom..." Richard bit his lip. "...now that I'm thinking about it, it doesn't sound like such a great deal, does it? But I promise I'd be good to you, I'd always defend you and do everything in my power to make you happy. I am all yours... if you'll have me."

If Richard wanted to add anything else to his speech, he didn't get the chance. Paul pressed their lips together in a short but sweet kiss and after opening his eyes again he said, "Actually, it does sound like a great deal to me. Are you sure it's possible though? Isn't there some kind of a law that would prohibit a marriage like that?"

"No. And let's be honest, even if there was... Whatever rules and traditions we have, I don't actually have to act in accordance with them. I should, but I don't have to, especially if I believe that upholding the law would for whatever reasons have dire consequences for the kingdom."

Paul laughed. "Ah yes, it surely is for the greater good of the whole land that the king gets enough cuddles. I understand."

"Yes, it is of the utmost importance. The king is a very romantic and gentle soul, you know."

"I know," said Paul softly, "it is why I love you, after all."

Richard's responding smile was dazzling. "So, your answer is...?"

Paul tilted his head and smiled innocently. "Answer to what? You haven't actually asked me anything."

Richard rolled his eyes in mock irritation, but he was still smiling. "Will you marry me?"

Paul was half-tempted to take his time and pretend to be considering his options, but he knew he had already teased Richard enough for one day. "Yes, I will."

Richard grinned at Paul as though all his wishes had just come true and wrapped his arms around him.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to post the ending although it's pretty short... I just couldn't find the time to edit it... :/ Anyway, now that my holiday has finally officially started, I've found the while needed to finish this story aand here it is! I am so incredibly grateful for all the lovely comments you've left me and touched by your support! I've really enjoyed writing this story and I'm happy that some of you have enjoyed reading it as well. Thank you, guys! ♥

**_Six months later_ **

*

Till waved at his fellow guard whose shift was just ending and he was about to relieved by another one of their colleagues. Till had no such luck, he had only arrived several hours ago and would have to remain at his post until late afternoon.  Being a royal guard was a simple and well paid job, but sometimes it could get really boring and the hours seemed to stretch on and on… At least there was always two of them and they could talk to each other. Sometimes they had servants stopping by for a word, which was nice, too – and not only servants, Paul himself liked to check on his people quite frequently and make sure they had everything they needed.

Till squinted at the man, who had just come and replaced his colleague – he remembered faces very well, but he could not recall seeing this man here before. "Hi, you're new here? I don't think we've met each other."

"Uh, yeah, hello, I started here a few days ago," the boy said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "But I'm afraid that after what I've just done I won't be staying long."

"How so?"

The boy's face went red. "I, um. I went to the bakery, you know, that small one right next to the castle where all the guards and servants get free breakfast... I got up quite late, so I was in a bit of a rush, but there was this guy standing in the queue right in front of me who kept talking to the baker and asking her how she was doing and shit like that... I was getting nervous, so I told him to shut up and get his bloody breakfast because some of us are busy... Then he turned around and, well."

Judging from the shame in the boy's eyes, the person he had scolded had to be someone very important; and Till could only think of one noble man who did not consider small talk with his people to be a waste of time. "It was Paul, wasn't it. The king's husband."

"I had no idea before I saw his face!" His new colleague looked like he was about to burst into tears. "He wasn't wearing formal clothes and from the way he spoke to the baker, I thought he was an old friend of hers, or maybe just some chatty idiot trying to hit on her... Oh god, I'm so fucked."

"Did Paul say something to you?"

"He just... he looked a bit startled, but then he apologised, waved at the baker and took his leave."

"Was Richard there to see it?"

"What? No, no he wasn't!"

Till smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Then you're fine, Paul wouldn't fire you for something like this. He knows you meant no harm."

The young guard raised an eyebrow. "How can you be so sure?"

"We've been friends for years, I'd known him long before he and Richard got married. He's really nice and he doesn't hold grudges, you don't have to worry. Richard, on the other hand..." Till smirked. "You better watch your tongue around the king. If you ever manage to insult him, then gods help you... and if you ever insult _Paul_ around him, you're pretty much dead."

"Yeah, everyone says those two adore each other. Then again, the guy from the stables said they seem to be going through some sort of a crisis now, so.."

"Crisis? Oh god, people really love to exaggerate everything, don't they?" Till shook his head. "They had a little disagreement a few days ago, something about if they should change the current tax system or not. They've already sorted it out though... as they always do. Crisis my arse, I can't imagine what would have to happen to actually drive them apart. I think that no matter what happens, they'll find a way back to each other."

"I see." The other guard chuckled. "You know what's funny, by the way? I've remembered than when the king announced he'd be marrying a commoner, everyone was flipping their shit and claiming that he was mad for believing Paul could want him for something else than his money... And now they're all like 'Ooh look at those two lovebirds, I wish I had a relationship like that with my wife!'"

Till snorted. "Yeah... Everyone talked shit about Paul because apparently you have to be a greedy gold-digger if you fall for a prince... People are terrible sometimes. First they thought Paul wasn't good enough for Richard and now some of them say that Richard isn't good enough for Paul."

"And what is your take on that?"

"My take is that people should mind their own goddamn business and stop bad-mouthing someone they don't even know. Richard is somewhat infamous for his... theatricality and short temper, but... look, I am the single father of five little girls and there were times when I had nothing. We lived in the slums, I could barely afford to feed them... Then Richard offered me this position and got us a new place to stay. Despite all the crap people say about him, he is a good man whom I owe a lot. Also, he and Paul are definitely good for each other. Looking at them sometimes makes me wish I had someone special, too, but I guess true love isn't for everyone. And besides, there is plenty of love in my life anyway. I have my daughters and my friends... and right now, it is enough for me. I consider myself a happy man."

"Good for you, buddy." Suddenly the younger man froze. Till was about to ask him what was wrong, but then he spotted the cause of his discomfort with his own eyes. Someone was walking in their direction, a man they was no stranger to either of them.

"Hello," said Paul with a small smile. Till greeted him as well, while his colleague could only glare at Paul, mortified. Till chuckled. As if Paul would ever punish any of his people for such a trivial thing…

"We spoke to each other this morning, didn't we?" Paul continued, his gaze moving to the young guard who looked as if he was about to faint. "In the bakery."

"...we did, sir."

Paul sighed. "Yes, well... I'd like to apologise for what happened."

The guard blinked. "Sir?"

"I'm sure you were hungry and in haste and there I was chatting happily and wasting your time. I'm sorry about that."

The guard frowned, his disbelief clearly written in his features. He was probably trying to discern if this was some kind of a twisted joke, or even a test. "I... I am the one who should be apologising, Your Grace. I was... very rude. Please forgive my manners."

Paul giggled. "Oh please, it was nothing, you had your reasons to be upset. And you don't have to be afraid of me just because I married the king, you know? All that stuttering and apologising is unnecessary. Let's just shake hands and pretend this morning never happened, alright?"

 "...alright," the guard stuttered out, accepting Paul's outstretched hand.

Paul grinned. "Good. Now please excuse me, my husband seems to be walking around the castle and looking for me. He looks pretty grumpy, so I'd rather not keep him waiting."

Within a few seconds, Paul was gone again. All the younger guard could do was blink in confusion and turn his gaze to Till, who gave him an amused smile in return.

 

*

"He said what?!"

"Calm down, Reesh, nothing happened, really," Paul said, laughing. "It's just a funny story, I didn't mean to make you angry."

"You know I hate it when people don't respect you."

"And you know I like it when people treat me like one of them."

Richard bit his lip, and Paul knew what he was about to say. He had already asked him the same question several times with the same vulnerable expression on his face and the fact that he even felt the need to ask about something like that always broke Paul's heart a little. "You... don't regret this, right? I mean... being with me. I know you've always wanted to lead a simple life in the forest and..."

Paul put a hand over Richard's mouth and replied in the same way as every other time. "I don't regret it and I never will. Nothing and no one is more important to me than you are and whatever choices I'll have to make in my life, I'll always choose you. Okay?"

Richard nodded and smiled, as always, and Paul's heart was beginning to feel whole again. Richard kissed the palm of Paul's hand and then moved it away with his own so that he could speak again. "I love you so much."

Paul knew he didn't have to say the words again. It was more than obvious that he felt the same way about his husband, and so he did not speak. Instead, he responded by sealing their lips together.


End file.
